

Class 



Book... >(^ -3S^ ■■ 

Cpipglit N?._ 


COPyRIGHT DEPOSrr. 


/ 


1 


■ I 




rj- 


‘J 

T* 




\ 

*. 


■a ■ : ■ " \ -w",. 

■'•'m''s . -../ »’'.*■ *■, > V . Vl"^ ^BC' ‘ ■' ' ■a'"*'''- 'V- ^ ■' > ‘""‘V ^ 




\ ; 

\ 

■ A^ » 


u 

% A 




I 


V 


S' 


. » ■ ^ ' k*<j , • , . ,- 

» ••' ‘ •>-’ . ^ .ir< 


iT*'' 

».%• * 


' < . 




■ I ^ 
K. . ::■ 


,..-v 




’ ( • • - is 


^ •J . 


n- i 


V , 


5- ^ ' I 


- f 


» f > 

i ■ » 

i ' 


’ * I ^ ♦r , • . • . J • . 4 >*’* ^ 

, : ;,,. . r - '' '. -•■ 

I if'V’ -1 


». 


V H 


p-fH 


•a-* ■ ^ 




■ • r -y^y . j 


' 

. I . .< 




: »>• 



). 


■V ,'V'^ 




• ' i 


A 


■». 






m4 




i\p. .-r\- \ . :.;f- 

'. ^ * r^r. 

. . 


/ 





*• I 


/' TT . ^ - • 

■’" • • i'"'^ '^ 1 * ‘ ’ Z-V'. y 

.M, .'■ -iul h V , ’ 

‘ 1 > 1 '''. / T.a*'/ *’ ■'' <’ iBflH^HBlfi' ' 


\'' i 


<1 


I k .< 


'■ ■■ • ■ '.vp 


.'.iK 


tfj 


,*% 


*W 


%• 


> 


/| v 


•I ^ 


^ ' -■/'• ■ ' '-■ TftsS.^ . ■ ; 

♦' 'iv- -S i, . V- ' ‘ • . " 


•> 


. ,v 


• * . * M 'y ■ 

. ... ^.., ^ 5 ^ / 

• - K - .. -•: .j .■^■- ! 

• i 


‘K ' .i;-* . 

"lit'- 


r1 


/ . Vi ■ ' ' • 

■/■(« ■ .J ■' *, i •, , ♦- 

■<y ^ •••♦ ■ ^ '! 




. aIAa . . 4 JJU 


*'* 1 ? • ▼ ‘ . 
i' 



• \ 




,»» 


% .« 

. I • 



N' 


i 





r 


1^ 

. F 


< 




V 

• - ) 

• f 


M 

4 I 




^ r': ‘ 




.¥^ 


.v»5' 

. •• '. '.-^ J ■ SiJf_. 

* * f "** ' ' 1 .. 

■ . , J > > ,*'» 


•'V. 


t <• 




< I I 

> V 

» 


A*"- 


A ‘ 


* ' T • . 

‘ ’ ' ' ' ' ■ 


'Si.,';., 

‘ii ' •'•• u* ‘ 


.••' '.• ‘ J ., * ■ 


' I 





. r 


■f 


i . 


> . * . 

I , ' t ' < ' 


J » 


v.» 


( 


■ ■* ’.‘'V i'l: 

- . ' » ■• >■• y '. 

■ 4 • V, ‘ ‘ ‘ ,; , <v>V 


-, s'f :' ■ '•■ 




t . • ■.*- 


■ . .. f. 

' 1 '. !' s’ . 


¥' 








■r 




1 • 


-V 
I ' 




t ‘ 

1 

I 






f 


I 



/ ..I 

■*!' 

0 

* •, 






% 


i 

K 

I 



. • ^ 




' » 


» 


i 


I I 


0 


• f 

i 

' 

' ’ i I • 

r ♦ 

» 

‘ I 


/ 








% 




% 


S’ 


» 



9 


% 


4 



\ t 


I 



k \ 


$ •« 
I 





« 


/ 


I 






4 

t 



• f 



4 


.O 

1 ■ ' 


I 


A 


\ 


«• 


« 

i 



(I 



# 




\ » vi * . 

I, ^ 

$ 

i 




J 


I 


I 

i# 


t f . 


I 




J 






• < 


,1 1 


1 




'at 




\ 


I 






THERE WAS NOBODY IN SIGHT 


HELEN 

OVER THE WALL 

The Adventure with the 
Fairy Godmother 

BY 

BETH BRADFORD GILCHRI5T 



Illustrated by 
ADA C. WILLIAMSON 


THE PENN PUBLISHING 
COMPANY PHILADELPHIA 
MCMXII 


COPYEIGHT 
1912 BY 
THE PENN 
PUBLISHING 
COMPANY 









©CI.A327763 


Foreword 

(Which ought to be an Afterword) 

Helen Thayer is the kind of girl who is always 
having adventures. She does not recognize her- 
self as this kind at all, any more than you who 
are preparing to read about her are likely to think 
that what happens to you would be worth putting 
within the covers of a book. Which is only an- 
other way of saying that every girl has a story in 
her life, possibly a whole shelf of stories. It is 
plain, then, that when such a girl as Helen once 
gets into a book, she is likely to run through 
several books before she gets out again. Her next 
adventure is the one that befell her after she went 
home from Red Top and the name of it is 
Helen and the Uninvited Guest.” 


3 



Contents 


I. 

Crosspatch 





11 

11. 

“ Red Top ” 





29 

III. 

The Locked Door . 





49 

IV. 

Over the Wall 





68 

V. 

Enter, the Fairy Godmother 




89 

VI. 

Almost a Slip . 





98 

VII. 

By Express 





115 

VIII. 

In the Hiding-Hole 





133 

IX. 

An Old Attic . 





145 

X. 

Crosspatch Again 





163 

XI. 

Billy Speaks Out 





186 

XII. 

A Real Grandmother 





205 

XIII. 

A Puzzle and a Party 





221 

XIV. 

Picnicking 





239 

XV. 

The Wish Exchange 





261 

XVI. 

Order No. 9123 





281 

XVII. 

What Does It Mean ? 





299 

XVIII. 

The Godmother Unmasked 




315 


7 



Illustrations 


There Was Nobody in Sight . 

‘‘ PvE Been Over the Wall ”... 
She Gripped It In Both Hands 
“And Now You’re Talking of Running Away 
Map of the Road to White Rocks 
“ Don’t I See Another Sandwich ? ” 

“ Why, Child, What’s the Matter ? ” 
u Was You All Along ” . 


PAGE 

. Frontispiece 

871/ 


140 

193 

235 

2491/' 

284*^ 

325 


Helen Over-the-Wall 


9 


> 


Helen Over-the-Wall 


CHAPTER I 

CROSSPATCH 

The scowl deepened on Helen’s face. It ran 
up and down her forehead in two little straight 
ugly furrows. A footprint in the middle of 
mother’s best clump of pansies ! There was no 
mistaking whose footprint. Carelessly it crushed 
down into the yellow blossoms. Helen’s lips set 
in a hard angry line as she picked out the broken 
sprays. 

The twins cavorted around the corner of the 
house and made toward the picket fence. At the 
moment the fence was masquerading as a stockade, 
while the twins figured respectively as settler and 
Indian. Euthlessly Helen broke in on the game. 
Come here ! ” 

They came unwillingly. 

“ What’s the row ? ” 

Helen pointed. Aren’t you ashamed, when 
mother’s sick ? ” 

Did we do that ? ” 


II 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


One of you did it.” 

It must have been when you were scalpin^ me 
this morning,” said Tess. “ I told you to look out 
where you stepped.” 

“ Why didn’t you stay still and be scalped 
then ? ” Ted rejoined. Bet you did it yourself.” 

Bet I didn’t.” 

S-s-sh I ” warned Helen. Can’t you keep still 
even under mother’s windows? ” 

’Tain’t hurt much,” Ted whispered hoarsely, 
inspecting the pansies. 

Helen held up the broken stems. How often 
has mother told you not to say ain’t ? ” 

She don’t do it that way,” muttered the boy. 

Doesn’t,” said Helen. 

Don’t,” said Ted obstinately. 

Doesn’t.” 

Ted stared defiantly. 

Tess whirled to her twin’s defense. It’s worse 
to be cross than it is to use bad grammar, so 
there I ” 

Helen gathered up the wilted pansies and rose 
to her feet. I don’t wonder mother’s sick,” she 
said. Now go around on the other side of the 
house and don’t come back here all the rest of the 
afternoon. Do you hear?” 

We ain’t deaf,” said Ted. 

Helen stalked haughtily into the house. The 
12 


CROSSPATCH 


twins retreated to the domain mapped out for 
them and sat down under a syringa bush. 

‘^Do you think it’s so — what she said?” Ted 
asked. 

“ What’s so?” 

‘‘That we’ve made mother sick.” 

“ She was cross,” said Tess. “ And when she’s 

cross you can’t ever tell for sure. But — but 

Oh, Ted, what if it was I ” 

He dug grimy hands into his pockets. “ I 
wisht we hadn’t got into those pansies ! ” 

Tess nodded, big tears welling over her eye- 
lashes. 

“ Cryin’ don’t — doesn’t, I mean — do any good,” 
said the boy. 

“ I can’t help it.” Tess sniffed. 

“ ’Cos if we have made mother sick ” he 

began. 

She scrambled to her feet and, snatching his 
hand, tugged him up. “ Let’s go find Phil and 
ask her.” 

They squeaked on tiptoe up the piazza steps and 
through the hall, peeping into room after room. 

“ Bet she’s up-stairs,” whispered Ted. 

“ S-s-sh I ” said Tess. 

Laboriously, teeth set over lower lips, they 
mounted. From a darkened room a girl slipped 
to meet them, finger on lip. She pointed to a 

13 


HELEN OVER-rUE-WALL 


room, and they creaked cautiously in, the girl fol- 
lowing. Then she shut the door. 

Mother’s asleep,” she smiled. “ Did you want 
something ? ” 

They told her, worry sobering their usually 
merry faces. Phillis sat down in a big chair and 
gathered them both into her lap. 

You haven’t done any more than the rest of 
us to make mother sick,” she said. “ We’re all in 
it together, if anybody’s in it, Floyd and Helen 
and you two and I. Perhaps we haven’t helped 
her as much as we might or been careful enough 
not to give her things to worry about. We can 
all think of things to do over if we could, things 
we can begin to do differently right now. But 
we didn’t make her sick, so put that idea out of 
your heads for good.” 

What did make her sick ? ” asked Ted. 

She got tired, tired working so hard for so 
many years to keep us well and happy when there 
was too little money to do it easily.” 

When I grow up to be a big man,” said Ted, 
I’m going to make a lot of money and give it all 
to her.” 

“ When we didn’t mind right away, did it make 
her tireder ? ” Tess inquired, 
suppose it did.” 

Ted frowned. 


14 


CROSSPATCH 


Then we won’t have to wait till we get grown 
up big before we can begin to help her,” said Tess. 

You can begin right now while she’s sick. 
You have been beginning, haven’t you? I’ve 
noticed.” 

They reached up around Phillis’s neck and 
hugged her. 

Wisht Nell was like you,” said Ted. 

Oh, no, you don’t,” Phillis told him. Who 
would tell you stories ? ” 

‘‘ Wisht she wouldn’t be a crosspatch then,” Ted 
grumbled. 

Phillis patted his shoulder. She was tired, 
tired and hot and worried about mother. Don’t 
forget that.” 

“ She ain’t any tireder ’n you are. I’ll bet.” 

“ Isn’t,” prompted Tess. 

Isn’t,” said Ted. 

‘‘ Feel all right now ? ” asked Phillis. I must 
go back to mother.” 

They nodded. Can we go down to Bob Den- 
nison’s ? ” 

“ You may.” 

“ We meant may.” Tess hugged her sister again. 

Phillis watched them tiptoe down-stairs and 
waved a smiling good-bye as they let themselves 
out of the front door. But her eyes were indig- 
nant as she turned toward the darkened room. 

15 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


I’d like to shake Helen ! What a crosspatch 
she is, anyway.” 

Crosspatch, meanwhile, was scrubbing away at 
the pots and kettles which had cooked the dinner, 
and her brow was clear. Only a very small prick 
disturbed her conscience. She hadn’t meant to be 
cross, not one single time, while mother was sick. 
She hadn’t felt cross, either, till to-day. But any- 
body would have been roused by finding mother’s 
pansies stepped on, so she comforted herself. It 
was righteous wrath that had boiled over in her. 

Carefully she carried the dish-water out of the 
door and emptied it on the pansy bed. She would 
try not to forget it, but empty the dish-water there 
every day. That ought to make the blossoms 
larger. And then when they grew big and beau- 
tiful she would put them in a low green vase and 
take them up to mother and set them on the table 
by her bed and say, Mother, see what the dish- 
water did.” And mother would laugh and say. 

Dish-water is worth something, isn’t it, daughter, 
when it blossoms into pansies?” And Helen 
would kiss her and say, Yes, even dish-water is 
good for something.” 

At this point in the imaginary conversation the 
iron spider missed its nail and precipitated itself 
with clang and clatter into a line of kettles on the 
lowest shelf of the pantry. The furrows leaped 

i6 


CROSSPATCH 


into place between Helenas eyebrows. Oh, 
dear 1 she wailed. “ What a perfectly awful 
noise ! Oh, dear, I wish I wasn’t such a drop-cat.” 

Then she stole up-stairs and tried to persuade 
Phillis to give over her place in the sick-room, 
after which she stole down again and spread out 
her books on the kitchen table. 

“ They might just exactly as well let me stop 
school these last weeks,” she fumed. I could 
make it up easily in the summer.” 

A couple of kittens came and romped over her 
lap while she worked at the books before her. 
Obliviously the minutes passed. Tick tock, tick 
tock, tick tock, said the clock on the shelf. It 
said it over and over and over and over, monoto- 
nously. Then it stopped. Helen worked on. 

After a while, Phillis pushed open the kitchen 
door and set the tray she carried on the shelf by 
the sink. 

Mother has just waked up,” said Phillis, and 
she says she had such a nice nap. Why, what has 
happened to the clock ? ” 

Helen jumped guiltily to her feet. ^^IPs 
stopped ! ” 

Didn’t you wind it last night? ” 

“ I forgot.” 

Then the bread Oh, Nell, don’t tell me 

you forgot to put the bread in to bake I ” 

17 


HELEN OFER-THE-WALL 


“ I’ll put it in now.” 

Phillis sighed. ‘‘ It won't be very good. Here, 
let me see it.” 

I was waiting for it to get time,” Helen ex- 
plained. “ You said to put it in at three and 
then the old clock went and stopped and it never 
got to be three.” 

‘‘ I should think you’d have noticed it was 
growing late.” 

“ So I should, if I hadn’t had to do a hundred 
dozen things at once. If you’d only let me stop 
school, Phil, then I could give my mind to the 
house. Or if you’d do the kitchen stunts and let 
me take care of mother — I’d love that. But you 
know I can’t do two things at once. You know it, 
and yet you expect me to get my lessons and bake 
bread all at the very same minute. It isn’t fair.” 

I shan’t expect it any more.” 

Now you’re cross.” 

Phillis was silent. 

I’m sure I don’t see how I could be expected 
when I was studying to notice that the clock had 
stopped. They tell you to concentrate your mind 
when you study.” 

I don’t think 3^ou need to be told that, Nell.” 

Do you mean you want me to unconcentrate 
it?” 

“ Oh, dear, no. There, child, take a glass of 

i8 


CROSSPATCH 


water up to mother, won’t you ? And stay a little 
while with her, but don’t talk much. I’ll tend to 
things down here.” 

Has mother been waiting all this time for a 
glass of water? Why in the world didn’t you say 
sooner that she wanted a drink ? ” 

She was in no hurry. Don’t forget not to talk 
much.” 

Very cool and quiet and peaceful were the 
minutes that slid away one after another in the 
room up-stairs. They touched Helen’s spirit with 
gentle fingers, soothed and bathed and dressed it 
once more in its pleasant garments. Mother 
could always smooth your puckers out, the girl 
thought. Sick or well, she made you feel as 
though you liked people. And there were times, 
Helen owned it honestly to herself, there were 
very often times when she did not feel as though 
she liked anybody or anybody liked her. Except 
mother. Always mother. 

It was strange to sit down to supper without 
mother. Not even after three weeks of sitting down 
to all their meals without her had the Thayers 
gotten over the strangeness of having mother 
lie in bed up-stairs, lie there because she was too 
tired to get up. To-night things were stranger 
than ever. Helen was sure it was the bread that 
gave this added eccentricity to the meal. If the 

19 


HELEN OVER-THE-JVALL 


bread is right, other things may be wrong, but if 
the bread is wrong, no amount of rightness in 
other things can quite efface the knowledge of 
what’s wrong. To-night Helen felt as though 
everybody in the family craved bread, nothing but 
bread, and the bread was decidedly odd and its 
oddness was her fault. She had forgotten to wind 
the clock. 

Hello,” said Floyd, what’s the matter with 
this bread ? ” 

It rose too long,” said Phillis. Have a gra- 
ham cracker.” 

Tess lifted big eyes over the edge of her glass of 
milk. “ Mother says you shouldn’t talk about 
what you have to eat,” she reproved glibly. 

Floyd laughed. “ All right. Miss Propriety. 
What have you twins been up to all day ? ” 

They told him in a flood of speech. 

And then Floyd went up to mother and almost 
before she would have supposed there had been 
time to prepare it, Phillis was standing at Helen’s 
elbow with mother’s supper tray in her hand. 

Would you mind doing the dishes again — -just 
to-night ? I know how you hate doing them, and 
I’ll make it up to you in some way to-morrow.” 

Of course Helen said yes, though she didn’t 
want to say it in the least. While she twitched 
the glasses and china in and out of the hot water 
20 


CROSSPATCH 


she tried the effect of saying no, tried it by means 
of many hypothetical conversations. But the fact 
that she had really said yes made all the differ- 
ence between Helen up-stairs with mother where 
she felt nice and smooth and purry, like a kitten 
stroked the right way, and Helen down-stairs in 
the kitchen battling with soap and water and soiled 
dishes, where she felt hot and cross and scratchy, 
like a kitten driven into a corner by a teasing 
puppy. 

^‘TheyVe having a confab of some kind, I 
know they are. That's the way they've done it 
before, Floyd and Phil closeted with mother after 
supper. They make a lot of plans and then they 
come down and announce 'em to the twins and 
me. They don't seem to think I'm any older than 
the twins. And I like to help make plans. I 
think Phil might have stayed down here and done 
the dishes — of course, I'd have helped — and then 
we could both have gone up to Floyd and mother. 
When they do come down and try to tell me I'm 
not going to listen. I'll be too terribly busy to 
hear a word they sa}^" 

Cheered by this resolve, Helen plodded through 
the dishes, not forgetting the pansies' drink at 
the end, and corralled the twins for bed. They 
came cheerfully. Bedtime was a bitter pill sue-* 
cessfully sugar-coated in the Thayer household by 
21 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 

the stories ‘‘sister” told. There was only one 
sister when it came to telling stories. Phillis for 
bumps and bruises, games and schemes of all kinds, 
Phillis for the daytime ; Helen for the go-to-bed 
hour, when their sister Crosspatch blossomed into 
a wonderful person with a magic tongue that drew 
them on and on through regions of adventure and 
delight. And Crosspatch was seldom so happy as 
when, with a twin snuggled on either side of her, 
she followed whither her imagination led. 

But to-night, just as she had anticipated, when 
the twins were tucked in and the sheets were turned 
well under their chins “ to keep off the scratchy old 
blanket,” as Tess called it, and the good-nights 
were all said and the last sleepy inquiry had been 
made in regard to some detail of the story, — yes, 
ex-actly as she had anticipated, Phil called out as 
she passed the open door of the sitting-room, 
“ ArenT you coming in ? ” And when she had 
to go in to find her algebra, if she was to know 
anything at all in class to-morrow, then they got 
her. 

“ Letter from Cousin Anne,” remarked Floyd, 
tossing it across the table toward her, as she stood 
pulling the algebra from beneath the heap that 
had accumulated above it. 

“ Yes ? ” said Crosspatch. 

“ ArenT you going to read it ? ” 

22 


CROSSPATCH 


'' I don't know that I need to, do I ? " 

“ Well, I should rather say you did." 

‘'Don't you want to know what she says?" 
asked Phil. 

“ Not particularly." (Which wasn't strictly 
true. Oh, Crosspatch ! ) “ Was that what you 

were talking about so long in mother's room ? " 

Phillis's eyebrows flew up and down again as 
she gazed at Floyd. “ So that's the trouble," said 
the eyebrows. Floyd's left eyelid drooped ab- 
ruptly. “ You're right, my lady," returned the 
eyelid. Helen intercepted the exchange and 
cordially disliked it. 

“ Oh, come now, get over your grouch and 
read the letter. Something's going to be doing in 
your direction." 

“ Cousin Anne has sciatica again," put in 
Phillis. 

The algebra dropped and Helen's hand went 
out toward the letter. The written lines were 
few and her glance devoured them at one sweep. 

“ And she wants you, Phil. Of course, she 
wants you. And I can run the house and take 
care of mother ! Oh, joy ! Oh, Philly, Philly, 
Philly, Pm so glad ! " Helen had seized her sister 
and was squeezing her in ecstatic arms. 

“ Well, I guess not ! " said Floyd. “ You’re 
going to Cousin Anne, not Phil." 

23 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Behind Helen’s astonished face Phillis hastily 
shook her head at him. 

You see, it’s this way, Nell — who is there to 
go but you ? I can’t, with mother like this. And 
I’ve always gone before when Cousin Anne needed 
one of us. Now it’s your turn.” 

It is not,” said Helen. Why, Phillis Thayer, 
I never saw her in my life ! ” 

‘‘ I never had seen her when I first went to ‘ Red 
Top.’ ” 

You’re different. Everybody likes you. Be- 
sides, it’s silly for you two to talk like this. What 
good would I be if I went there ? ” 

Plenty of good, if you chose to be,” said Phillis. 

Cousin Anne simply wants somebody to amuse 
her while she’s tied to her bed.” 

“Is mother silly?” asked Floyd. “We’ve 
talked it all over and she says you’re to go.” 

“ Not quite that,” Phillis hastened to interpose. 
“ She said she hoped you would be willing to go. 
She leaves the decision to you, but she wants 
you to go.” 

“ Mother ! ” 

Helen stared at the two alert cheerful faces for 
a minute of absolute silence. 

“ But you’re the one to go, Phil,” she reiterated 
at last. “ Cousin Anne knows you. She’s used 
to you. She won’t like me.” 

24 


CROSSPATCH 


“ Make her like you/’ said Floyd. 

You’re just teasing me/’ Helen said. Aren’t 
you teasing me ? ” 

<< Why, Nell, don’t take it so hard, child ! ” 
Phillis put out a comforting hand. Anybody’d 
think we wanted you to be boiled in oil.” 

I’d rather,” breathed Helen. Truly I’d 
rather. But you didn’t mean it. You’re going, 
Phil.” 

“ I ? What is the child thinking of? If I went, 
who would take care of mother ? And steer the 
twins clear of mischief? And keep the house 
decently quiet? You know the doctor said 
mother must not be fretted or worried if she is to 
get well quickly.” 

I would. You’re not so fearfully much older 
than I if you do * child ’ me all the time, Phillis 
Thayer ! ” 

Phillis repressed a smile. “ My place as eldest 
daughter is with mother when she’s ill.” 

Just because you happened to be born first is 
no reason for thinking I can’t do anything at all ! ” 

I don’t think it, and you do a great deal, Nell. 
But you couldn’t manage at all now. Aren’t you 
lighted punk to the twins’ firecrackers? And 
how many times have I finished the dishes alone 
because when you carried away the silver you 
looked in a book and forgot to come back ? And 
25 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


what about the clock last night and the bread 
this afternoon ? 

The bread was because I was studying. And 
I never forgot the clock before, not one night. 
Just let me stay out of school. Then I can concen- 
trate all my mind on mother and the housekeep- 
ing. It isn’t as if she was dreadfully sick, Phil. 
Quiet and rest, the doctor says. And I’ll get 
Bridget O’Hara to come. Then you’ll trust me. 
I’ll go down right now and ask her.” 

You won’t go a step,” said Floyd. ‘^Sit down, 
Nell, and cool off. Phil’s to stay here. That’s flat. 
Now who can go? Think it out for yourself.” 

“ But Phil might go just as ” 

“ I tell you that discussion is closed.” 

What about you ? ” 

u I ? ” pioyd laughed. Cousin Anne doesn’t 
want a boy. Besides, I’m a wage-earner. You'll 
be proposing Tess or Ted next.” 

You see it’s you or nobody, Nell.” Phillis’s 
arm went around her sister’s waist. You’ll 
have to help us out.” 

Call it nobody.” 

That would trouble mother. She doesn’t 
want us to desert Cousin Anne.” 

Desperately Helen fell back on the letter. She 
says you.” 

“ Just because I’ve always gone to her before. 

26 


CROSSPATCH 


But never mind, you won’t have to go if you don’t 
want to. We will write Cousin Anne after you 
have seen mother in the morning.” 

After she had seen mother ! And mother 
wanted her to go I But she wouldn’t have to ; 
Phillis had said she needn’t. So that was settled. 
Of course it was settled. There was no sense in 
worrying. And she would remember to wind the 
clock every night. There ! She had forgotten it 
again to-night. Helen slipped out of bed and 
crept down to the kitchen, barefoot, to set right 
her omission. But how could anybody expect 
you to remember anything when you had a proposi- 
tion like this flung at you ? Only perhaps if she 
had remembered everything all the days of her 
life Phillis would have thought her a dependable 
person, one to be safely entrusted with the care of 
such a precious thing as a mother. Anyway, she 
was not going away to leave that mother, not for 
one single night, not she. 

But when morning came and mother was talk- 
ing to her in that gentle, tired voice and when she 
said, “ If my little daughter can see her way to 
going to Cousin Anne at this time, she will make 
me very happy, but I leave the matter in her 
hands,” Helen capitulated. She had known all 
along that [she would capitulate and the knowl- 
edge had added to her vehemence. Now she 
27 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


swallowed very hard two or three times, and after 
a while she said in a small dry voice, “ Do you 
want me to go so very much, mother ? 

“ It would relieve me of some anxiety, dear. If 
none of my girls was with Cousin Anne in her 
time of need, I am afraid I should worry. 

Then ITl go, mother,^' said Helen bravely. 


28 


CHAPTER II 


‘‘ BED TOP 

“ There ! that button^s gone. I meant to sew it 
on last night and then I forgot. Now I’ll have 
to take this waist off and I’ll be late — I know I’ll 
be late. Don’t put those slippers on that side, 
Phil, right on top of my organdie ! What are 
you thinking of? Oh, dear, now I’m cross again, 

and I didn’t mean But I don’t want to go ! 

You know I don’t want to go ! Oh, Phil, mayn’t 
I stay at home after all ? ” 

With lips shut very tight Phillis squeezed the 
slippers between a slim copy of “ Lorna Doone ” 
and a pudgy bottle of violet water at the end of the 
suit-case farthest from the organdie, and turned to 
the little sister twisting excitedly before the glass. 

“ Floyd has taken your trunk to the station 
and bought your ticket. I’ll sew on the button. 
Where is it — under the bed ? Don’t get down on 
your knees, child ; you’ll be all dirt. Your hair 
looked perfectly well before you began to fuss 
with it. Anyway, it won’t show under your hat. 
Oughtn’t there to be white thread in this basket ? ” 
I packed it.” 


29 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Both spools? Never mind. Put on your hat 
while I get some from mother’s room. And don’t 
worry — there’s time enough.” 

I don’t want to have time enough ! I’d j ust hope 
that old train would go off and leave me, only I 
s’pose they’d make me take the next one. Oh, dear ! ” 
as Phillis returned with the thread, I think you’re 
perfectly horrid, all of you, when you know she 
won’t like me and will wish all the time I was you, 
Phil. I shouldn’t wonder if she sent me home.” 

If she does we shall know whom to blame.” 
Phillis’s needle flew at a point between her sister’s 
shoulder-blades. “ Why, child, you don’t suppose 
I’d shirk Cousin Anne’s sciatica if I could get 
away, do you ? ” 

You could get away, if you only thought so.” 

“ How can I fasten my thread when you twist 
about? You know we’ve been over and over all 
this forty dozen times already. Stand still, while 
I button your waist. And, oh, Helen, do try to 
keep your temper I Remember how poor we are. 
College for Floyd depends on Cousin Anne’s help- 
ing to foot the bills, and she more than half prom- 
ised me a year at art school. Besides, haven’t you 
set your heart on going to college yourself? ” 

“ I don’t think it’s nice to buy your way by 
kowtowing to your relations.” 

It isn’t kowtowing. Here’s your skirt. Get 
30 


^^RED TOP^* 


into it, feet first. I’ll tuck your petticoat in. 
Yes, Floyd, the suit-case is ready. Close it, will 
you, and we’ll be down in a jiff. It isn’t kowtow- 
ing, Nell. Listen ! Mother told me last night 
that five years ago when father died Cousin Anne 
said to her frankly, ‘ Jessie, if your family will 
stand ready to help me out in my tight places, 
you can rest assured I’ll help you out in yours.’ 
Sciatica is her tightest. And she isn’t very cross ; 
just a little abrupt and quick to say what she 
thinks — like you. I’ve told you how lovely ‘ Red 
Top ’ is. Coming, Floyd ! Oh, Helen, do your 
best for all of us ! Run in to mother. Yes, I 
know you didn’t mean to be cross.” 

With a little sigh Phillis glanced around the 
room to make sure that nothing had been for- 
gotten. Helen’s tooth-brush ! Where did the 
child keep the case for it? Never mind. Snatch- 
ing up a new one of her own and thrusting in the 
brush, she ran down-stairs. 

In the hall Floyd waited. ^^Been jawing you, 
has she?” he asked, unbuckling the straps of the 
suit-case. 

Don’t let her miss the train, Floyd. I couldn’t 
stand getting her ready again.” 

She will, if she doesn’t hustle.” 

Crosspatcb, lift the latch, 

Sit by the fire and spiu,’^ 

31 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


chanted a twin, pirouetting madly on the piazza, 
while her other half turned handsprings up the 
path. 

Why don’t you two skip down the street and 
say good-bye at the corner? Chase yourselves 
and see who beats.” 

The twins set off with a whoop. 

Up-stairs in a darkened room a thin white hand 
patted a girl’s cheek. There, there, dear. Of 
course you would like to stay and help me get 
well. But I couldn’t do it half so quickly if I 
had to lie here and think of poor Cousin Anne 
suffering alone with nobody to amuse her. I need 
Phillis now, and so it is you who must represent 
the family. Remember that you stand for us all, 
and guard the lips carefully, dear.” 

I can’t, mother, not like Phillis. She is just 
so sweet always, like a lump of sugar, and I — I 
guess I’m skimmed milk. Things stir me all up 
and I sour.” 

“ You must fight it, dear. Fight hard to be 
sugar. Good-bye.” 

In another minute the girl was down-stairs and 
out of the square, shabby old house under the huge 
elms that had been home ever since she was born 
and that in all her almost fourteen years she had 
never left for more than a night or two, except for 
one unforgetable trip with mother to New York. 
32 


^‘RED TOP^^ 


Now Floyd was hurrying her away, perhaps for a 
whole month. He even cut short the hugs at the 
corner where the twins, shelving temporarily a 
lively debate on which got there first, and remem- 
bering only that this going away meant good-bye 
to their bedtime story-teller, nearly strangled her 
with the violence of their regret. 

Puffing and snorting, the train waited with as 
much complacency as though it were not in the 
habit of breaking up families every day. Floyd 
hoisted Helen’s suit-case to the rack, produced a 
magazine bought at a news stand, and stuck her 
ticket into the back of the seat ahead. 

Now you’re fixed. Good-bye, sis. Give our 
best to Cousin Anne. And, I say, don’t upset the 
apple cart, you know.” 

Longingly Helen’s eyes followed her brother’s 
shoulders as they clove the crowd on the platform. 
It was only by main force that she kept herself 
from jumping up and running after him. You’ve 
got to go ! ” she said over and over. If it kills 
you, you’ve got to go.” 

Perhaps it would kill her. Hadn’t anybody 
ever died of being away from her own people, 
where she wasn’t wanted ? Then think how her 
family would feel ! She could see them bending 
over her, Helen, lying so still with the lily-white 
face and the lily-white hands, and they were 
33 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 

weeping. We have broken her heart, they said. 
‘‘ Oh, why didn’t I go to Cousin Anne as she im- 
plored me to? ” Phillis was moaning. How well 
dear Helen would have nursed me, had I only 
given her full responsibility ! ” sighed her mother. 

How good we’d have been I ” lamented the twins. 

We shouldn’t have called her ‘ Crosspatch ’ once, 
just ‘sister Nell,’ ‘dear sister Nell.’ ” And Floyd 
would take one of those lily-white hands in his 
and say — 

“ Is this seat occupied ? ” 

Little beads of water stood on the broad face that 
capped the jetty black mountain in the aisle. 
Helen murmured vaguely and squeezed her slim 
tan self into the farthest corner of the red plush 
seat. Tinklingly the mountain settled beside her. 

“ Pretty warm day,” it volunteered. 

The girl answered by a monosyllable and turned 
to the window. The station walls were moving ! 
Helen’s heart tumbled so precipitately into her 
boots as to make her almost dizzy. Why, oh, why, 
if you were Crosspatch, did they try to turn you 
into Phillis? Phillis, with her pretty blue eyes 
and her pretty brown hair and her dimples and 
her iron-clad temper that made everybody want 
her. Cousin Anne wanted her ; mother wanted 
her ; Floyd and the twins wanted her. And Phil- 
lis didn’t have any trouble being pleasant. She 
34 


^‘RED TOP'^ 


got as much credit for acting the way she was 
made as though she heroically refrained from fly- 
ing into fifty tantrums a day. What a lovely 
disposition Phillis has ! ’’ the neighbors said to her 
mother, and they asked Phillis to help at their 
parties. When the twins cut themselves they al- 
ways went to Phillis. Floyd told Phillis all his 
scrapes. Of course they were nearly of an age, but 
— but — 

A big tear splashed on the linen lap. Helen 
squared her back on the steaming mountain and 
pressed her nose against the glass. It was an odd 
little nose, rather long, and at the very end it tilted 
suddenly, as though by an afterthought. Helen 
hated that nose. It had meant well, she thought, 
just as its owner always did, and like her it ended 
badly. She also hated her eyes. By no pull of 
the imagination might they be termed “ pools of 
liquid light,” orbs which occurred monotonously 
among her story ladies. The narrator^s own were 
just eyes, of a quite ordinary blue and not nicely 
lashed like Phillises, and between her brows, which 
were rather heavy, ran two straight up-and-down 
lines, deepening to furrows when, as Floyd said, 
anything disagreed with her from cobblestones 
to crickets.” The mouth did not mend matters. 
No amount of pinching, however judiciously ap- 
plied, with cold cream, served to turn it into a 
35 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Cupid’s bow. And her hair, brown and thick like 
Phillis’s, had managed to lose all Phillis’s curl and 
fluffiness. Altogether, the face was as unsatisfac- 
tory to its possessor as the present situation in 
which she found herself. 

Hot and sooty and strange, the hours clambered 
on around the face of the little gun-metal watch 
bearing Phillis’s monogram, which Phillis had 
loaned the night before. Somewhere in the first 
third of the journey the mountain waddled off, 
leaving a pleasant sense of space and an unpleas- 
ant sting in mother’s remembered words : You 
can never be too uncomfortable to be courteous, 
daughter.” 

Outside the window, a new, rough kind of coun- 
try was beginning to happen. The magazine 
slipped down in Helen’s lap. When you live ad- 
ventures, however grumpily, you do not have to 
read them. Her eyes followed the sprinting tele- 
graph wires with their everlasting dip — slide — rise, 
dip — slide — rise, dip — slide — rise, for all the world, 
she thought, as though they were doing a figure in 
dancing school. Breathless patches of woodland 
scampered beside the track. A blue hill jumped 
up against the sky, kept pace for a minute or two, 
and dropped behind. Sun-splashed brown brooks 
flashed by, and now a little river joined company 
with the rails, a clear shallow river, iridescent like 
3b 


^‘RED TOP” 


the speckles on a trout^s back. Houses got to- 
gether in clumps as though to signal the train, but 
it only shrieked at them, slackened speed a bit, 
and then thundered on faster than ever. 

This was traveling — actually traveling ! You 
couldn’t tell what you would see next. It was just 
as it had been on that trip to New York. Helen 
had always expected to travel widely, but in her 
vocabulary traveling was to mean taking your 
whole family — mother, Floyd, Phillis, and the 
twins — after you had miraculously made your for- 
tune, and setting out to see the loveliest places in 
the world, all the places where the dear book peo- 
ple had lived and all those other places where your 
own friends and relations lived, about which you 
had heard ever since you were born. 

What fun it would be if they were all traveling 
up to Red Top ” together, she thought, and with 
that she began to cudgel her memory for every- 
thing that mother and Phillis had ever said about 
Cousin Anne’s Vermont home. 

“ Red Top ” was beautiful, they agreed, with its 
gardens and the acres of red clover that gave its 
name, with walls running everywhere — gray stone 
walls around the fields, high brick walls around 
the gardens — and with an old roomy house over- 
looking the whole. The house had begun in 
Helen’s great-grandfather’s day as a two-room 
37 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


farmhouse and had been added to and added to 
until Phillis declared it made you think of the 
chambered nautilus, only here no chamber was 
ever abandoned. All this belonged to Cousin 
Anne, who lived there alone when she had sci- 
atica, and with cartloads of guests when she was 
well. But often she shut up the house entirely, 
and leaving a man to care for the gardens wan- 
dered for months in far-away countries. Bed 
Top’s ” owner had always been to Helen’s imagi- 
nation even more alluring than “ Red Top.” What 
hadn’t she seen from the Taj Mahal to Tintagel ! 

And here was Crosspatch Thayer actually on 
her way to this wonderful place and this wonderful 
person whose eyes had looked on Camelot, and 
who, when they looked on her little cousin, would 
probably pack her home again in short order. But, 
oh, what if she shouldn’t ! For had not Helen 
promised mother to be good ? 

At the thought, black and grim and forbidding, 
the dumps had her again. Splash ! Down, down, 
down went her spirits, just as they often did when 
dinner was half an hour late. Could it be that 
she was hungry? Half-past one, said the little 
gun-metal watch. Time, indeed, to open the 
dainty lunch that Phillis had put up. When her 
teeth bit into the second sandwich, Helen’s spirits 
began their upward march. Come what might, 
38 


^^RED TOP'^ 

she would do her best for the honor of the 
family. 

The sun, climbing down through wisps of cotton- 
batting cloud, began to warm up the plush beside her. 
Dust filled her nostrils. Outside it rose in clouds 
from yellow roads crawling over rugged hillsides. 

“ We need rain,’^ said the lady across the aisle 
to the conductor. 

He agreed, and Helen scorned them both. DidnT 
everybody know they needed rain ? Why talk 
about it, then ? Beyond the lady sat a child, small 
and demure, and between them she now noticed a 
cat’s head. 

I didn’t see any cat when those people came 
in,” she reflected. They must have had it in 
that basket on the turned seat. Won’t the twins 
laugh when I write them about a traveling cat ! ” 

She craned her neck in furtive curiosity. The 
cat was a big, black and yellow creature, the body 
shrouded in a blue bag gathered around the neck 
so the head was free. Calmly it sat, looking about 
quietly and blinking its large yellow eyes at ad- 
miring trainmen and passengers. Now the little 
girl gathered it into her lap that it might the 
better look out of the window. Helen laughed. 

The woman beside the child rose and crossed 
the aisle. May I sit with you a minute? I 
leave at the next station, and you go on to the 
39 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 

Junction, I see. The little girl with the cat gets 
off at Fairfield, three stations ahead. This is her 
first journey alone. Would it be too much trouble 
to ask you to see that she is all right ? 

Helen felt like an old and experienced traveler 
to be thus appealed to. No, indeed. I’ll be 
glad to see that the little girl gets off at Fairfield. 
Has she much luggage ? ’’ 

Only the cat. Come over and meet Mr. 
Dooley.” 

The child looked up shyly at the stranger. 

“ This young lady will see that you get off at 
the right place, Ellen,” said the woman. Won’t 
Mr. Dooley turn around and speak to her ? ” 

Mr. Dooley ! ” cried Helen. “ Is that really 
the cat’s name? Whatever made you think of it? 
But, oh, isn’t he huge! He must be a beauty out- 
side the bag.” 

The little girl’s voice was soft and sweet, filling 
out her words very precisely. He is. He is 
the beautifullest cat that was ever born. But Mr. 
Dooley is just his for-short name ; his really truly 
long name ” 

She took refuge behind her curls. 

“ Now what could Mr. Dooley’s long name be ? ” 
murmured Helen from the opposite seat. Let 
me think. Here’s a lovely tawny patch on his 
head. Maybe he has yellow stockings — has he? 

40 


^^RED TOP*' 

Oh, do you call him Mr. Dooley Yellow-Stock- 
ing ? 

The curls shook violently. 

Then perhaps he has a white button on his 
tail like one of my kittens at home. We call her 
Tipsy Cottontail. How would that do ? 

The curls thought it would not do at all. 

It's very difficult, isn't it, guessing names? I 
don't believe you could tell me what my other 
kitten's name is." 

The curls parted. Do you give it up? " 

“ I'm afraid I do." 

Mr. Dooley Drinkwater Babbitt," pronounced 
the small voice triumphantly. 

All that ? Honestly ? Cross your heart ? " 

The curls bobbed joyfully. 

“ Mine is Ellen Babbitt, but Mrs. Drinkwater 
gave him to me. Ted named him. Ted is my 
brother. He would shake hands, only his paws 
are all covered up with the nasty old bag, 
wouldn't you, Mr. Dooley* Drinkwater Bab- 
bitt?" 

Blair ! Blair ! " shouted the brakeman. 

The lady gathered up her bags, kissed the child 
— Give my love to your aunt, dear " — and hur- 
ried jerkily down the aisle. Little Miss Ellen 
Babbitt watched her with eyes that grew mistier 
every minute. 


41 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Oh, don't ! " ci*ied Helen quickly. Because 
if you cry, I shall too." 

Grave wonder looked out of the wet eyes. “ Are 
you going to see a stranger lady ? " 

“ Indeed I am ! How did you guess ? I believe 
you're a witch and you know things without any 
one telling you. Then perhaps you know where 
I’m going? ’’ 

Where?" 

“ I am going — to — an — enchanted — castle." 
^^Oh!" 

It is rather hard to get to the castle because, 
you see, it stands in the middle of a lake of fire. 
They’re not high jumping flames, such as you’ve 
read about perhaps, but sort of low creepy ones. 
And the smoke doesn’t choke you, it’s sweet. So 
that when the wind blows and the crimson waves 
beat against the gates, the castle is full of the love- 
liest fragrance." 

Like joss sticks? " 

Much nicer than joss sticks. It crinkles 
your nose right up for joy. But nobody can 
get into the castle without swimming the red 
seas." 

Do you have to swim the Red Seas?" 

Yes." 

“ Oh, but you mustn’t ! It would dead you. 
Teacher told us last Sunday. All the men that 
42 


^^RED TOP^* 


walked got across, but the ones that tried to swim 
were deaded. Please don’t try to swim.” 

“ Then I won’t, and thank you for telling me. 
I’ll remember to walk or ride.” 

The riding ones got dead, too.” 

Did they ? Then I’ll walk. But I must suc- 
cor the lady of the castle somehow.” 

What’s succor? ” 

Rescue her — help her out of a tight place.” 

Tell about her.” 

You see it’s like this. The lady of the castle 
sent for me because she is in dire plight. A horrid 
old ogre has got into the castle — you know some- 
thing about ogres ? ” 

There’s one lives in the parlor at home. His 
hole is all blocked with pillows. You scrooch 
down — oh, so careful, on your hands and knees, 
for when Ted is home the ogre growls dreadfully, 
and if he is hungry he jumps out on you — Boo! 
But he doesn’t eat you, not one little bite.” 

Helen nodded. I know that kind of ogre. 
They’re very nice to have around just before tea. 
But this ogre I’m talking about now isn’t a parlor 
ogre. He’s a bad ogre, really truly bad. And he 
holds the lady prisoner in her own castle. He 
won’t let her walk in the garden among the birds 
and flowers, or even stand on the parapet and 
watch the jolly little waves jump up and down in 
43 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


the red seas. He’s put her in a donjon and 
chained her flat on her back to a bed.” 

What else does he do to her ? ” 

Every few minutes he runs red-hot needles 
into her.” 

0-o-o-oh ! ” 

“ So you see I have to go.” 

And will you break the chains and make the 
wicked old ogre go away ? Ted would help. He 
is a very <big and old boy. Only Ted does not 
come till next week.” 

I might ^send for him if I needed him. Let 
me see, how could I get you the message? Is 
Fairfield all the address ? ” 

Mother told me to say I was going to Mrs. 
Silas Howe.” 

Miss Ellen Babbitt, care of Mrs. Silas Howe, 
Fairfield, Vermont. I won’t forget. This next is 
your station. Does Mr. Dooley go into the 
basket ? ” 

From the car platform Helen watched the tu- 
multuous descent of a large spick and span woman 
and two thin spick and span girls on a small dusty 
figure carrying a heavy basket with a carefully 
secured cover. Then there were two more stations 
and the Junction and after that a funny three- 
quarter-hour ride behind a fussy little old engine, 
and Helen found herself stepping down to Jo.” 

44 


^‘RED TOP^* 


The weathered little man with the rusty straw hat 
topping a thatch of rusty red hair could not be 
anybody but Cousin Anne’s Jack-of-all-jobs, who 
Phillis had said would meet her. In two minutes 
with Helen’s trunk behind them they were 
ambling after a brown cob through wide, green- 
shaded streets bordered by pleasant-looking houses 
overflowing with pleasant-looking people. And 
then the houses fell back and let them into open 
country with long cool shadows strekhing across 
the roads. 

“ She’s had a bad day,” Jo said in answer to 
Helen’s question. Sciaticy ain’t no respecter o’ 
weathers. Idee now o’ pickin’ out a scorcher like 
to-day for tormentin’ a critter. How’s that sister 
o’ yours ? We’ve got pretty well used to seein’ her 
up in these parts, but it won’t hurt us none to git 
acquainted with some more o’ the family.” 

As the cob turned in between rose-grown stone 
walls an impulsive hand touched Jo’s arm. “ Is 
this ‘ Red Top ’ ? Then please won’t you let me 
walk up to the house from here? ” 

Obediently Jo cranked the wheel and Helen 
sprang out. Across reddening seas of clover, busy 
with droning bees, she could see trees and a house. 
Her heart was thumping when she stepped on a 
wide vine-curtained porch ; her throat felt dry. 

A tall white-gowned woman waited in the door. 

45 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Miss -Bates says will you step up and see her a 
minute before going to your room, Miss Thayer/’ 
Vague impressions of quaint cool low-ceiled 
pleasantness freshened the dusty girl as she crossed 
a rambling hall and mounted the stairs. In a 
minute she would see Cousin Anne — Cousin Anne, 
the wonderful. And then suddenly, before she 
was ready for anything, a nose beaked out of a 
white, dead tired face, a nose flanked by two cav- 
ernous blue-black eyes that seemed to Helen to 
probe to her very spine. 

I did not plan to receive you in bed, my dear. 
But this has been a rather horrible day. How did 
you leave your mother ? And Phillis ? It com- 
plicates matters when we all want Phillis at the 
same time, but it is right that she should stay with 
your mother. You must have had a hot, tiresome 
journey. Ask Mrs. Higgins for anything you 
want. And come in again for a little while after 
tea.” 

The mask of dirt came off and the organdie went 
on in a white and green bedroom overlooking a 
corner of the garden. But not the small-paned 
casement windows or the tall thin cupboards over 
the fireplace, either of which under other circum- 
stances would have roused the girl to raptures, 
served now to stir more than a passing thrill. So 
that was what sciatica did to you ! And Cousin 
46 


^^RED TOP'' 


Anne knew she hadn’t wanted to come. Helen 
thought that already Cousin Anne knew every- 
thing about her. Those eyes couldn’t fail to find 
the truth, however deep you tried to hide it. 

She ate her supper with a lump in her throat 
that choked the taste out of the wild strawberries 
and strangled every palate-tickling fiavor of the 
thick chocolate layer cake. It almost tripped her 
tongue when Cousin Anne began to ask questions 
again about the family. How she ached to see 
them this very minute ! Floyd would have 
brought down mother’s supper tray and Phillis 
would be doing the dishes. But who in half an 
hour would tell the twins their bedtime stories? 
Did they miss her one teeny bit, their Crosspatch ? 

The sob almost choked her. So she turned it 
into a chuckle and managed to make the story of 
the huge fat woman and of the very small girl with 
the very large cat sound so funny that Cousin 
Anne laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. 

Nevertheless it was a heart-sick girl who rose 
when the invalid said, You have given me a 
merry nightcap, my dear.” 

She put out her hand and drew Helen down for 
a kiss. “ It will be hard for you, child, to be tied 
to the whims of a bedridden woman with a crotch- 
ety temper. But I promise not to snare all your 
hours. Make yourself at home at ^ Red Top.’ 

47 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


There are no rules. Pick anything you like in 
the gardens, go anywhere, except — you will find 
one gate locked. Don’t ask for the key. Now 
good-night and sweet dreams. It is the first 
night’s dreams that count, you know.” 

In spite of homesickness curiosity pricked 
Helen’s thoughts as she undressed in the white 
and green chamber. Why had not Phillis told 
her about a locked gate ? And why was it locked ? 
Was there a mystery at Red Top ” ? If not, why 
mustn’t she ask for the key ? But, oh, how far away 
the dear home people seemed ! And because un- 
der her prickly skin beat a warm, sensitive heart. 
Crosspatch cried herself to sleep. 


48 


CHAPTER III 


THE LOCKED DOOR 

Waking up was with Helen a tolerably long 
process. Her eyes refused to snap open like 
Phillis^ as though you had touched the spring 
that lifts the lid of a box. The first she knew of 
a morning she was out of the country of Dreamless 
Sleep, picnicking in the land of Little Naps, and 
then she was really wide awake, she would have 
told you, all but her eyelids, which stayed tight 
shut and heavy as though a sleepy little elf w’^ere 
sitting on each one. Now she must lie and wait 
for the juices to come in her eyes when they would 
open of themselves, a much wiser way to do than 
to pry up the lids by main force and feel stupid 
all the morning afterward. 

But why wasn't Phillis tugging at the bed- 
clothes, which of course were clutched tight under 
Helen's chin, and calling, Get up. Sleepyhead ! " 
and threatening a shower-bath on the spot ? Had 
Phillis slept over? She put out a hand. No, 
Phillis was up, as usual. 

And then memory stirred and shook itself and 
49 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


her eyes popped wide as smartly as ever Phillis’s 
had done. Instead of opening on a patch of faded 
yellow wall-paper peppered by an inky accident 
to resemble a square of tanglefoot, they met a pale 
tracery of vines and buds, blossoming near the 
ceiling into pink and blue morning-glories. 

This wasn’t home; this was '' Red Top.” Helen 
sat up and hugged her knees, readjusting her 
mind to the happenings of yesterday. The hand- 
kerchief under her pillow was still a sad soggy 
ball. But this morning was not last night. A 
peep from the casement windows told of rain and 
a clean, fresh, sparkling world. The breeze that 
teased the muslin curtains whispered, Come out I 
Come out ! ” The sun beckoned. The garden 
sent up inviting odors. She dressed quickly and 
slipping down the silent stairs, slid the bolt on the 
porch door. 

You would have failed to recognize in our 
heroine the person whom Helen watched five 
minutes later step on the fiagged path that led 
around the house to the gardens. Not even the 
robin tugging at reluctant worms on the lawn or 
the warblers fluting in the lilacs saw the tall 
slender lovely thing gliding over the grass. Her 
eyes were made out of the sky just above the 
larches and for her skin she had borrowed big 
creamy white petals of the mock-orange bush, 
50 


THE LOCKED DOOR 


flashing them with the pink of the late flowering 
azalea. Her breath came from a bed of pinks 
under the north window of the parlor and her 
hair glinted with the gold of the sun and rippled 
like the fields of clover billowing to the road. 
Helen thought her a creature fit for the beauties 
of “ Red Top.” Her skirts, just the color of young 
beech leaves, trailed satisfyingly between great pink 
and white balls of early peonies and yellow spikes 
of flag to a gate in a low brick wall. The gate 
opened easily and she was in the rose garden. 

“ MorninV^ said Jo from the side of a white 
rambler. “ Beginning early, aiiiT ye?” 

Helen jumped. Exit fancy. Presto I In the 
garden was only a girl holding short crisp gingham 
skirts away from the wet rose-bushes and chatting 
with a little rusty-haired man in freckles. 

Beyond the roses stretched other walls, each 
higher than the last and each set with a quaintly 
patterned iron gate. When she tested them, they 
swung readily enough. Pooh ! What had Cousin 
Anne meant by saying what she did last night? 
Then her heart twisted suddenly and began to 
beat so loud that she could hear it ticking like 
the grandfather’s clock in the hall, only faster, 
much faster. In the flanking wall of the lily 
garden, beyond the one that was all iris, grew a 
door. It was gray and covered with lichens like 
5i 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


the brick beside it, and a spider’s web threaded 
across the upper right hand corner gave it an air 
of age and disuse and mystery. Not for worlds 
would Helen have stood on tiptoe and tried to 
look over the wall or even given a little jump. 
Breathlessly she set her hand to the knob, and — 
stared at row after row of lettuce and beets and 
beans. 

You tricky thing ! ’’ 

After that she naturally could not expect much 
of a similar door, minus the spider’s web, in the 
next garden. 

It will be potatoes,” she thought. 

It wasn’t; it was corn, short, shining blades 
drawn up in long quivering lines. 

She laughed and turned back into the fifth 
garden. Within its high walls much was going to 
happen in the months to come. 

I don’t care about the old door anyway,” she 
said, stroking the fuzzy bud of a poppy happily. 

Loitering and dreaming, she came to the end of 
the garden and a rustic seat. A bee buzzed in the 
lemon lilies beside it. A bluebird flashed over- 
head into the lilac bushes and began to sing. 
Helen had been curled up contentedly for five 
minutes before she spied a door close by in the 
wall opposite the entrance gate. Why, of course 
the garden must lead somewhere ! To an orchard 
52 


THE LOCKED DOOR 


perhaps, an orchard running up-hill with lovely 
crooked old apple trees just made for climbing. 

With both hands on the knob she pushed and 
tugged and shook the door before understanding 
bathed her in rapturous prickly shivers. It was 
locked. 

Weathered and gray, ridged with crosspieces 
and hung on big iron hinges, there was nothing 
remarkable about the door. The one with the 
cobweb had looked much more promising. No 
crack or knot-hole invited an eye. You could not 
peek under, nor hope to see over if you jumped 
your highest. Tree branches brushed the wall, 
the trunks swallowed by that mysterious Other 
Side. The bluebird knew all about it. He had 
winged across at Helenas first scramble. The bee, 
also disturbed, returned to his guzzling of honey. 

The girl retreated slowly backward. There was 
nobody in sight. She made quite sure of this be- 
fore, running hastily forward, she dropped to her 
knees, forgetful of her spandy skirt, and peeked 
through the keyhole. 

Straight ahead rose a tangle of green boughs. 
Between this and the gate, a patch of brown path 
met her eye. And in the middle of the path, spill- 
ing its sawdust vitals with generous abandon, lay 
a rain-soaked headless doll. 

Jo was still tying up rambler roses when with 
53 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


careless dignity and a mud-stained skirt Helen re- 
turned. 

The door at the end of the garden beyond the 
lily one is locked/’ she remarked. 

Did Jo look at herqueerly? So ’tis, so ’tis.” 
He scratched his rusty red head, opened his mouth 
to speak, thought better of it, and again revised 
his decision. “ The missus’s orders. Best not ask 
questions.” 

The visitor flounced her pink gingham skirts 
out of his path. Twice in her first dozen hours 
at “ Red Top ” she had been advised not to ask 
questions. To a person who had merely stated a 
fact and shown no symptom of interrogation this 
was naturally irritating. Helen would have flown 
into Crosspatch at once had she not had so much 
else to think about. If everybody was going to be 
close-mouthed, she supposed she could ferret out 
the mystery for herself. Thank fortune, nobody 
had told her not to try. 

But how much more of an enchanted castle 
“ Red Top ” really was than she had known when 
she told little Ellen Babbitt about it yesterday ! 
She grew so excited thinking of this over her oat- 
meal, strawberries, and cream that on going into 
Cousin Anne’s room after breakfast she blurted 
out before she could stop herself, And how is the 
ogre this morning? ” 


54 


THE LOCKED DOOR 


The what ? ” demanded Cousin Anne. 

Then she had to tell the story she had made up 
to keep the little girl with the cat from crying, in 
which Cousin Anne^s sciatica had figured as a 
wicked ogre and Cousin Anne as the lady of a 
castle. Oddly, Cousin Anne seemed to like it. In 
spite of the pain, which she described as “ nippy 
this morning, she chuckled over Ellen^s trustful 
expectations of encountering the Red Sea in Ver- 
mont and encouraged Helen to turn her fancies 
inside out. And Helen spread adjectives so thickly 
over the gardens as to satisfy even their proud 
owner, such honest heartfelt adjectives accom- 
panied by such vivid little turns of speech that 
Cousin Anne declared to listen was almost like 
seeing them herself. The locked door was not 
mentioned. It might be an unhappy subject, 
Helen remembered, and you must not excite in- 
valids if you could help it. 

But the ogre was really very cruel this morning, 
and soon Cousin Anne was too tired to talk and 
Helen settled herself on the porch to write her 
home letter. She had a great deal to say and she 
wrote as fast as her pen could fly, but it was not 
like talking. You couldnT get any answers or 
jump up every few minutes to hug your mother 
and Phillis and hear them say they knew you 
hadnT meant to be cross. 

55 


HELEN OVER-THE-JVALL 


For I was a bear/^ wrote Helen, a perfect 
bear those last days, and you were angels with 
shiny wings. But it seemed as though I couldn’t 
stand it to leave you all, and I’d fly home right 
now if I were an angel instead of a Mr. Grizzly 
Four-Paw. No, I really wouldn’t though, for I’m 
so sorry for Cousin Anne that it makes my throat 
prick to see her. She has laughed three times 
since I’ve been here — only I’m afraid it hurts. 
So I don’t know but that maybe I ought to try 
not to have her, but she says no, she likes it. 
Only she misses Phillis. She didn’t say that, but 
I can tell she does. I’m so awkward and drop 
things, and I’d tumble over a chair if it was a mile 
off, seems if But you know me well enough. 
Only I’m worse up here, all feet and hands. 
Whenever shall I get used to myself, mother? 

Cousin Anne has such worse ones that I 
ought not to mention my woes on the same page. 
I do hope she’ll be better to-morrow, for it 
seems as though I couldn’t bear hers and mine, 
too. That sounds horrid, but you know what I 
mean. 

Do please somebody write every single day 
and tell me everything. I’ll die if you don’t. 

The red roses aren’t in bloom at all yet, Phillis, 
but as the gardens fill eight pages of this letter al- 
ready, maybe I’d better save something for the 
56 


THE LOCKED DOOR 


next time. Only — why didn^t you tell me about 
the locked door at the end of the hollyhock one ? 
It makes me feel exactly like a girl in a book. 
Why, Phil, why is it locked ? Of course IVe 
made up half a dozen whys already, but I want 
the honest Injun story. Is it a lo very one? Or 
was there a little girl who lived over the wall 
when Cousin Anne was a little girl and they al- 
ways played together and went to school together 
and did everything together until she died or 

something ? Or — or 

“ With a great huge Mr. Grizzly hug for all five 
of you — oh, mother, do hurry up and get well ! — 
and ‘ write constant ’ as Bridget says. 

To your lonesome 

Crosspatch.^^ 

Crisp and matter-of-fact and sensible, like Phillis 
herself, two days later came Phillis's reply. 


Mother is delighted to have you write so 
cheerfully. She sends her best love and says she 
knew you would prove yourself a true Thayer. 
She is proud of you. 

“ Floyd came in last night chanting a limerick 
that the twins have’ hardly had out of their 
mouths since. Want to hear it? 

57 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


“ ^ There once was a brick named H. T. 

Who laid out ma’s nursemaid to be. 

But she hiked for Bed Top 

At a two-forty hop 

And now she’s in clover — Te he ! ’ 

They helped with the dishes last night — the 
twins, I mean — and broke only one, a green 
sprigged cup. I wish they had chosen the saucer 
instead, for we have twice as many saucers as 
cups now. But you never break the things you 
can perfectly well spare, do you ? 

“ After that I rescued Tipsy from an early 
grave, so you can see we had an eventful evening. 
It happened like this. The twins had gone to bed 
— how they groaned for you, Nell ! — and as it 
rained Floyd and I lit the lamp in the sitting- 
room. There we sat, I putting tucks in my old 
blue dimity, Floyd deep in ‘ The Green Mountain 
Boys ’ for the steenth time. You know how he 
reads, with dozens of encyclopedias and histories 
and dictionaries spread out around him. Sud- 
denly I heard a little click. Naturally Floyd 
didn^t notice it, and probably I shouldn’t have 
given it a second thought if I hadn’t remembered 
seeing the little white point of Tipsy’s tail vanish- 
ing around Floyd’s empty violin case, l3dng open 
on the piano. No sign of Tipsy, and the case was 
shut. That seemed queer, so I lifted the lid and 
58 


THE LOCKED DOOR 

out bounded that harum scarum little yellow ball 
as friskily as though she hadn’t managed to pro- 
vide the Thayer family with every prospect of a 
first class cat funeral. At present writing T. 
Cottontail still enjoys good health, thanks to the 
vigilant supervision of her friends. 

Now, Nell, listen to me. You must not worry 
about mother. The doctor says she is doing as 
well as can be expected, and though it will be 
slow, her convalescence is sure. So if I can’t 
write better, better, better, every day, don’t think 
things are going wrong and that we are hiding 
something from you. Mother will mark time for 
a while, doctor told me to-day, and we won’t be 
able to see that she gains, and we shall probably get 
discouraged and think her as sick as ever, but 
when she does begin really to mend, she will do 
it fast. I don’t see that there is anything for us 
to do but keep everlastingly patient. 

Poor Cousin Anne I I hope she is better now. 
Give her our love. 

Mother says be sure not to wear your best 
clothes every day even if you are visiting. And 
when it’s wet, put on your rubbers. The twins 
are planning to write you to-morrow. The dears 
do really try to keep quiet, and succeed fairly well 
for them. And the neighbors swamp them with 
invitations to eat and play away from home — 
59 


HELEN OFER-THE-WALL 


really they do very little here bat sleep. It all 
helps. 

Now cheer up, little sister. The Thayers are 
backing you to win. 

With love from us all, 
Phillis. 

P. S. What is this moonshine about a barred 
door ? I never heard of such a thing at ‘ Red 
Top.’ You must have been up before the gates 
were unlocked ! Cousin Anne would be the last 
person to lock a door for any sentimental reason. 
She’s not that kind. P. T.” 

So the door had not been closed last summer 
when Phillis was here. Something had been ac- 
complished ; the mystery was dated. But how 
provoking of Phil to take that superior tone ! 
Precious little she should hear about it after this. 
And mother must not be bothered. Locked only 
at night I Was there an hour of the day when 
she had not tried it ? But she had never again 
seen the headless doll. Once or twice voices had 
come over the wall, a small lisping treble, a girl’s 
laugh — such a pretty laugh ! — and jolly enough 
to make you want to laugh too if you could only 
do it half so well. Who were those people ? Per- 
haps they had moved in lately, and Cousin Anne 
did not like them. Was that why she had shut 
6o 


THE LOCKED DOOR 


the gate ? Helen knew that she might set forth 
through the clover any day, climb a low, gray 
wall or two, and come at the other side of the 
garden. But that would be sneaking on the secret 
instead of storming it, full face. For the present 
she hugged the mystery, fostering it. Not for 
anything, just yet, would she risk discovering that 
Cousin Anne had locked the gate to keep those 
people from stealing her flowers. 

And suppose there were another reason. Phillis 
couldn’t know everything. Barring old un- 
happy far-off things,” suppose some happiness had 
lately gone out that way and Cousin Anne had 
locked the door behind it. A book lay on the 
parlor table on whose fly-leaf was written, ‘‘ In 
memory of too fleet a summer.” The verses made 
you squirm inside, and the date was very recent. 
And Helen, who was as sentimental as most girls 
and loath to believe the rest of the world less so, 
shed a tear over Cousin Anne’s fictitious heartache. 

The puzzle spun itself into her imagination as a 
caterpillar winds himself up in a leaf. If she had 
not had it to think about, I doubt if Helen would 
have stayed through the first week. It was the 
longest week she had ever known. Through 
broiling days and sweltering nights the sciatica 
jabbed and stabbed and tore at Cousin Anne, de- 
fended by hot water bottles and yards of itching 

6i 


HELEN OFER-THE-JVALL 


flannel. And Cousin Anne’s temper, ground to 
an edge by pain and sweat, interminable hours of 
June sunshine and more interminable hours of 
June moonlight — June, of all months! — flashed 
now and then with rapier sharpness. Helen liked 
her for that. The wounds were clean and held no 
sting, healing quickly, and Cousin Anne was so 
pathetically sorry after she had dealt them. 
They gave the girl an odd half-frightened feeling 
of acquaintance with the hawk-eyed woman on 
the bed. Cousin Anne never stormed at her when 
she tripped over a rocker or knocked down a 
book, and she only laughed when the cup of broth 
flew from its saucer and in her efforts at recapture 
Helen batted it quite across the bed. When she 
talked she enthralled her hearer and when she 
listened it was with a quiet interest that doubled 
the girl’s pleasure. For Helen loved to read aloud 
and read well, and the hours spent, book in hand, 
beside the bed were happy ones. 

But other hours came when Cousin Anne was 
too sick to scold or laugh, to talk or listen, and 
Helen could only creep with aching thoughts into 
the consoling sunshine and shutting the door on 
memory, learn Red Top ” by heart, liking all 
she learned. 

Even here the ogre’s shadow sometimes followed 
her, and when this happened she would go into 
62 


THE LOCKED DOOR 


the last garden where the poppies were lifting big 
scarlet cups and, sitting down on the rustic seat in 
sight of the mysterious door, begin to make up 
stories. 

It was impossible to be altogether unhappy, 
sitting so, with her imagination for company. 
Helenas imagination was a good deal like a balloon 
bobbing along through the air. It often ran away 
with her, but then too it saw that she did not lack 
adventures. Once started in a certain direction, 
that imagination was very hard to turn ; not even 
barefaced facts could always head it off. Floyd 
used to say that Helen would run around the 
block to find an explanation while the real one 
lay under her nose and she never saw it. She 
lived much in books, and the stories she made up 
were apt to follow the lines of her reading. 

If some day I found a key lying on the grass 
beside the hollyhocks and I fitted it into the lock 
and it turned, one story began. They all went 
on to tell what would happen. Sometimes it was 
a great garden full of [gleaming statues and tink- 
ling fountains like a picture in Cousin Anne's 
room, but, unlike the picture, with children romp- 
ing everywhere, turning handsprings and doing 
cheeses, children just the size of the twins and 
clamoring to be told stories. 

Sometimes what happened was a gloomy wood 

63 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


and in the grim castle in the heart of the wood, 
whither she -was led by a sprite with a laugh like 
bubbling brooks, lived a genius more powerful 
than the ogre. Though he writhed before her into 
a dozen shapes, fire and snakes and water and wind 
and toads — Helen loathed toads — she stood her 
ground and at last the genius told her she had but 
to command the thing she most desired. Then 
she chose the banishment of the ogre from “ Red 
Top.^’ A hard deed,” said the genius, but it 
shall be done if you see the ogre when I have 
finished with him.” 

So the genius and the ogre fought, and the sound 
of their fighting was like thunder and the crash- 
ing of trees and the hiss of escaping steam, and the 
sight of it was like a flood and a fire and an ex- 
plosion rolled into one. For the genius went to 
battle whirling snaky streams of water round his 
head, and they played on the armor of the ogre, 
bristling with red-hot needles, until Helen was 
deafened by the cracklings and blinded by the 
mist. But again she held her ground until the 
steam cleared and lying on the earth she saw a 
blackened misshapen wisp of a thing that looked 
like nothing so much as a flake of burnt paper. 

Ask again,” said the genius. 

Then she chose quick health for mother ; after 
that college for Floyd, a4,|id art school for Phillis, 
64 


THE LOCKED DOOR 


and for herself — Helen hesitated long over her own 
gift, but finally said, Good temper/’ 

Because I can get most of the other things for 
myself, I guess, by and by, except a pretty face. 
And what good would that do me if I kept on being 
nasty ? Only maybe I’d be good if I were pretty. 
Well, it’s too late now. I’ve chosen and you can’t 
do over a choice. Now what for the twins ? ” 

The game might have gone on like this for an- 
other week if the weather had not taken a hand. 
It rained. Not a gentle delicate mistiness or even 
a rough roistering thunder shower, but a down- 
right out-and-out drizzle, sickening, gloomy, per- 
sistent. If at almost fourteen you were ever housed 
for two whole days in an old country place stocked 
from garret to cellar with chests and cupboards and 
boxes, you can imagine how Helen might have 
felt. But a hundred to one, you were not shut in 
with an ogre. 

The ogre spoiled everything. In the absence 
of the cheerful sunshine he looked blacker and 
grimmer and more wicked than ever. She could 
not get away from him. He followed her up attic 
and sucked all the pleasure out of trunks of 
wonderful old gowns which her great-grandmother 
and great-great-aunts had worn when they were 
girls and went to the governor’s ball. He 
squatted on the arm oWier chair in the library 

65 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


when she tried to forget him in the Arabian 
Nights. He clogged the pen with which she 
wrote her home letter and made it so gloomy that 
she tore it up and started another. 

I should hope you could do better than that, 
Helen Thayer, when mother is sick and mustnT be 
worried and there’s trouble enough at home with- 
out any additions from you. If you can’t be a help 
at least you can help being a hindrance. So pocket 
your blues and put on a near-pink somehow.” 

But the near-pink was so pale and sickly that in 
despair she sent off a postal card conveying the 
stimulating information : 

Rainy day. Jo’s gone to town. Read all 
morning to Cousin Anne. Hope it clears by to- 
morrow. Nell.” 

By the day after when it actually did clear and 
the sciatica had fallen back temporarily on its 
reserves. Crosspatch was desperate. 

It’s one of those days when Floyd says I see 
red,” she reflected as she brushed her hair. I’ve 
got to do something violent or — burst ! ” 

“ I think I shall lie and rest this morning,” was 
Cousin Anne’s greeting. Move those roses so I 
can see them better, my dear. Thanks, that’s right. 
You have a gift for arranging flowers. And now 
be off into the sunshine.” 

66 


THE LOCKED DOOR 


Given her head, like a young colt chafed with 
inaction, Helen frisked away. She danced through 
the gardens, not from any fixed purpose, but because 
she habitually inspected the locked door before set- 
ting out elsewhere. Suddenly an idea struck her. 
She had always known she would do it some day. 
Why not now ? Walls held no terrors for one ac- 
quainted with shed roofs and pear trees, one who 
had abruptly discovered that she could not live an- 
other minute unless she knew what was on the other 
side of the door. 

No sound came from that debatable country. A 
survey through the keyhole revealed a coast clear 
even of headless dolls. The gardens were also 
deserted. Dragging the rustic seat over toward 
the wall, she scrambled to the back of it and swung 
herself, red with effort, to the top. 

A road ran within a few yards of her perch, and 
beyond the road, smothered in just such crooked 
apple trees as she had hoped for, cuddled a small 
gray house. 

Helen half rose to sweep her skirts free for more 
comfortable contemplation and, losing her balance, 
crashed down on the other side. 

The next instant, instead of on placid green grass, 
she was sitting on something that moved and spoke. 

“ Geewollikins ! it gasped. But you knock 
ttie breath out of a fellow.'^ 

67 


CHAPTER IV 


OVER THE WALL 

With a horrified squeal Helen landed in the 
middle of the path, rigidly erect. Goodness ! ” 
she ejaculated. What are you ? And — what are 
you doing here? ” 

“ Hold on ! That^s my question. A boy a 
year or two older than she faced her, a boy equipped 
with steel springs that had popped him to his feet 
with the suddenness of a Jack-in-the-box. Beady 
brown eyes twinkled out of a merry brown face as 
he felt himself with mock anxiety. No bones 
broken. Only black and blue spots for souvenirs. 
We won’t arrest you for assault and battery just 
yet, young lady. Did you rain down ? ” 

Of course not. I came over the wall.” 

Honest ? Thought you’d been going for miles 
by the bump — sort of shooting-star effect.” 

I don’t think that’s very funny.” 

Can’t crack a smile on it myself But, I say, 
what are you doing over the wall ? ” 

It’s my wall,” Helen defended, stoutly. 

Cousin Anne’s, I mean. What are you doing 
under it ? ” 


68 


OVER THE WALL 


“ Come now, don’t get huffy. The highway’s 
free for all.” 

“ But the gate is locked.” She throttled a grow- 
ing desire to giggle. 

Sure. That’s why you dented me instead of 
the grass.” 

Following his outflung hand, she saw a rubber 
blanket spread on the grass beside the wall ; on it 
sprawled two or three books. 

‘‘ Moll’s work,” said the boy. “ She’s afraid I’ll 
catch my never-get-over, namely rheumics, on wet 
grass.” His eyes rolled impishly. “ Sit down and 
you’ll see my why for yourself.” 

Squatting Turk fashion on the other end of the 
blanket, he watched amazed delight grow in her 
face. 

“ Why, it’s a perfect little green hiding-hole ! ” 
she said. With those bushes and ferns screen- 
ing the road nobody would ever know we were 
here at all.” 

“ Pretty good little place, so long as a chap can 
count on the gate staying shut and no queer fruit 
pitching out of the trees.” 

Helen laid her head on her knees and rocked 
back and forth, shaking silently. 

I say, you’re not crying, are you ! ” 

She lifted tear-wet eyes and began a wild hunt 
through her sleeves. ‘‘ There, I’ve forgotten my 
69 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 

handkerchief again I Phil always asks whether 
I’ve got one, and now here I am for all her train- 
ing just as absent-minded as ever.” 

Who’s Phil ? ” turning his pockets inside out. 
My sister Phillis. And she doesn’t like it one 
little bit when I call her Phil, either.” 

He grinned and tossed over a folded square of 
linen. “ My sister’s got me well broken in.” 

“ Oh, have you a sister ? How old is she ? I’m 
pining for somebody to play with. And isn’t 
there a baby? The voices come over the wall 
sometimes. Do you live in that cunning gray 
house with apple trees all around it ? ” 

Whew ! Shall I take ’em in order or go back- 
ward ? — We do — We have — Twenty or so — Yes. 
The gray house has held us about a week, those of 
us that have given it the chance. Father and 
mother aren’t here yet. I hove in day before yes- 
terday, straight from school. The baby’s a three- 
year-old and a handful. And Molly, my sister, 
is a junior in college — no, hold on, a senior since 
yesterday, and no end smart. She came up last 
week with Harold — that’s the kid — and put the 
kettle on. None of us ever saw the place before. 
I’m Billy, surnamed Holbrook. What made ’em 
lock you in ? ” 

The girl laughed. At home she avoided Floyd’s 
friends. It was a family joke that little boys and 
70 


OVER THE IVALL 


old men were Helen’s masculine specialties. But 
the ice was certainly well cracked when you had 
tumbled spank on to a boy from the top of a wall, 
especially a boy with such chuckling easy ways 
and mischievous impish eyes. 

They didn’t lock me in,” she said. It’s kept 
locked — I don’t know why. And that isn’t the 
reason I haven’t had anybody to play with. I’m 
Helen Thayer, and I’m up here to amuse Cousin 
Anne — Miss Bates of ‘ Bed Top.’ She scares me 
but I like her. And I hate her old sciatica — I hate 
it ! Your sister must be great. I hope to go to 
college myself some day. Don’t you suppose she 
could tell me how girls work their way through?” 

She probably could, but I say, you’re not go- 
ing to do that ! ” 

'' Why not? ” 

You can’t have half so much fun. Earning 
money takes time.” 

“ I’m not going for fun ! I’m going for Greek 

and biology and literature and Italian and ” 

Billy covered his ears. Greasy grind ! Greasy 
grind I Greasy grind ! ” he chanted. 

I’m not a greasy grind ! I won’t be. Don’t 
you suppose I mean to have fun, too? Oh, I’ve 
heard girls. I know how some of them talk. 
You’d think all the}^ wanted of college was the 
lark. Why, just last spring vacation one of Phil’s 

71 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


friends was at the house, a freshman somewhere, 
and I’ll bet she’d flunked something, too, for she 
said, ‘ Before you go to college you think it’s going 
to be just ragtime, don’t you know, and then you 
find you have to work.’ Ragtime I What she 
wanted was a boarding-school, and she didn’t know 
it.” 

Billy nodded his head like a mandarin. Go 
it, boots ! Go it ! I’ll back you for a grind, sure.” 

Then you don’t know a grind when you see 
one. What’s this book ? ” 

Virgil. Acquainted with the gentleman ? 
But why in thunder do you want to earn your 
living? Dish- washing and waiting on tables, of 
course. Didn’t I say a greasy grind? ” 

I hate dish-washing as much as I do sciatica. 
I’ll black boots first. There must be something 
more — more — scholarly. Those wishy-washy 
things aren’t all there is, I’m sure.” 

Billy lay back and threshed the turf. Schol- 
arly ! Oh, my soul, scholarly ! ” he moaned. 

Helen watched him haughtily for a minute 
before burying her nose in Latin hexameters. 

After a while Billy sat up. “ See here, won’t 
your aunt, cousin, whatever she is, come up to the 
scratch ? The old lady ought to do something 
handsome to settle this summer’s score.” 

The Virgil shut with a slap. What a perfectly 
72 


OVER THE WALL 


horrid boy you are ! As if I’d buy a college ed- 
ucation that way ! As if anything on earth would 
have hired me to leave mother and the family ! 
Cousin Anne may do all she wants for Floyd and 
Phillis, but I mean to stand on my own feet. No 
props.” 

A violent sneeze punctuated this declaration. 

Thought I got a whiff of pepper,” he teased. 

The blood fired Crosspatch’s cheeks, her eyes 
flashed. Billy waited, wickedly expectant. 

One — two — three — four — five — six — seven — 
eight — nine — ten,” she remarked. What were 
you doing with these books? ” 

Working.” 

Flunked, poor boy ! ” she thought. But he 
doesn’t look stupid. Perhaps he’s played too hard 
— so many do.” 

A sweet high yodeling blew over the bushes, 
interrupting her cogitations. 

Molly wants me,” said Billy. Come on up 
and see her and the kid. You don’t have to 
hurry back, do you, to Cousin Sci ? ” 

The prettiest girl Helen had ever seen in her 
life, enveloped in a big print apron, was scrubbing 
the sink in the kitchen of the little gray house. 
A pair of vigorous dimpled elbows and a spun 
gold curl capering above a shell-pink ear formed 
the first glimpse. 


73 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


“ I want some strawberries for lunch, Billy, and 

a head of lettuce, but before you go 

That was all Helen heard for a while, because 
just then the girl turned, brush in hand, and the 
corners of Helen’s poor little heart quite crinkled 
up. For Molly had a face of the loveliest pure 
oval, lit by great dark velvety eyes, and her won- 
derful red-gold hair rippled away from her white 
forehead like the hair of a Greek statue. She was 
tall, showing, despite the capacious apron, slim 
and shapely, with a look of wistful sadness about 
her that made you want to cry. But Molly 
didn’t want to cry. Oh, no indeed I It was only 
the people who looked at her who felt like that. 
And she managed to break them of the habit in 
time, though to this day Helen cannot come on 
her suddenly without a pricking of the throat. 

“ It is so nice to find neighbors,” Molly was say- 
ing blithely when the visitor next perceived mean- 
ing in her words. “ And such neighbors ! Miss 
Bates won our hearts forever by that dish of ice- 
cream on Sunday, didn’t she, Harold ? ” 

“ Cousin Anne — sent — you — ice-cream I ” 

If Cousin Anne and Miss Bates are the same. 
It was so cold and we were so hot ! I never tasted 
anything half as good.” 

Sitting ^011 the floor opposite an ecstatic brown- 
ejed baby, Helen stared this new fact in the face. 

74 


OVER THE WALL 


Why hadn’t Cousin Anne told her about the Hol- 
brooks ? Could it be that she would send them 
ice-cream from her Sunday dinner with one hand 
and lock the garden gate on them with the other? 

The youngster scuttled after the ball absent- 
mindedly thrown by his new playmate. Billy 
had vanished on some errand or other. Molly 
had set the brush in the sun to dry and was now 
sousing dish-wipers in a fiber pail. 

Don’t you hate doing that ? ” asked Helen. 

What, kitchen stunts ? I love them. When 
I can scrub I’m happy. A rolling-pin is next 
best, and I don’t mind sweeping, but if you want 
to put me in the seventh heaven,” rubbing soap 
on a grease spot, “ give me water to slop about 
with.” 

Really? I didn’t know anybody ever liked to 
scrub.” 

Molly laughed the lovely laugh that had fioated 
over the wall. You didn’t know me then. I 
adore it.” 

But — how can you ? ” 

Because I do, I suppose. Why do you like 
playing with Harold ? ” 

That’s different.” 

Not a bit.” 

But you’re in college, a senior, your brother 
told me and — do excuse me if I oughtn’t to speak 
75 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


of it — but isn’t that a Phi Beta Kappa key on 
your waist? ” 

Molly’s hand went to the Dutch neck of her 
gingham gown. Oh, that I I remember now it 
was the first pin I could lay hands on this morn- 
ing. Zoo gave me that, and a streak of good 
luck. And Zoo’s rather messy, you know. Don’t 
look at me with such big eyes, child. I’m only 
moderately intelligent. But if I were the greatest 
shark on the campus I fail to see why I shouldn’t 
like to scrub and study, too.” 

The ball bounded away unnoticed while Helen 
digested this new idea. “ Then I suppose you 
like to wash dishes,” she hazarded. 

Bight I ” squinting through a dripping towel 
at the sun. But I dispute that monopoly in this 
household with Billy.” 

Your brother ! ” 

Molly’s eyes danced. “ Billy is a first-rate dish- 
washer, bed-maker, and cook — lots of boys are. 
He can, at a pinch, do about everything else that 
needs to be done in the house. Oh, but I’ve had 
such fun this last week 1 Everything my own 
way, you know. And after a bout with semester 
exams how good it seems to plunge into an orgy 
of housework ! We’ve always summered by the 
sea before, so father decided for the mountains this 
year. I know I shall miss my daily dip and the 
76 


OVER THE WALL 


splendid thunder of the surf, but it’s lovely up 
here. None of us knew anything about Vermont 
except that it was a blue blot on the map and 
furnished mother her Morgan mare and all of us 
our flap-jack syrup. Father leased the house and 
I begged for the job of putting it in order. Of 
course I’ve had a woman to help and to stay nights 
until Billy came, and Harold has kept me from 
feeling lonely. Father took mother to Niagara. 
Fancy, she’d never seen it I ” 

Yeough ! ” Harold’s sharp little yelp brought 
Helen back to business. 

“ He won’t let you off now,” said Molly, hang- 
ing up her towels. 

Between throws Helen watched the strong 
shapely hands twinkle about the line. Why had 
she never noticed how pretty hands could look 
doing such things? The ball bounded into a 
corner and Harold scampered after it, returning 
with a battered doll hanging by one worn arm. 

^^Wiggy,” he announced. 

Helen shook the limp right hand of the raga- 
muffin. “ How do you do, Mrs. Wiggy ? ” she 
inquired of the black china face. 

“ Misther Wiggy,” corrected Harold. Wiggy 
got new head,” patting it cheerfully. 

“Isn’t he a terror?” Molly threw over her 
shoulder. “ The uglier, the dearer — with Harold. 
77 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


One night we couldn’t find the rascal and I thought 
the baby would cry himself sick — he sleeps with 
Wiggy.’^ 

Done ! ” cried Billy bursting into the kitchen. 
“ How many baskets, Moll ? Half a dozen ? Come 
on to the strawberry patch, neighbor. They give 
you all you can eat. Not this time. Bumps,” 
tossing Harold to the ceiling. Bumpity Bumps 
stays with sister Moll.” 

Away they went up the road, Helen hoppity- 
skip, Billy ranging in and out of the bushes like a 
sportive dog. 

Going to call you Seesaw,” he announced, re- 
turning from one of these excursions. Short for 
Cousin Sci’s Sawbones. Sci-Saw — See-saw. Like 
it?” 

Helen glared. 

Rather neat, I think myself. Got a lot in it. 
Nail in your shoe ? ” 

‘‘No!” 

“ Glad to hear it. You look the way I felt once 
when I had one.” 

“ I think you’re the horridest boy I ever saw.” 

“ One — two — three — four — five — six — seven — 
eight — nine — ten. Fine day.” 

“ Why’d you count?” 

“ Why’d you ? ” 

Her shoulders stiffened in haughty silence. 

78 


OVER THE WALL 


Tell a fellow/^ he persisted. 

You don’t deserve to know.” 

“ Probably not. Father says if we got our deserts 
it would be a pretty hard world. Dead give away 
for father.” 

Helen laughed. You couldn’t stay angry with 
those ridiculous eyes grimacing at you out of the 
soberest face. Mother told me once that if I 
could remember to count ten when I was mad I 
wouldn’t explode. There’s a time when you know 
you’re going to be mad, and then if you only can 
remember and want to and count ten or do some- 
thing like that, you can stop yourself.” 

Zip ! Corked ! ” He illustrated graphically. 

So you did it.” 

‘‘ Ye-es. But mostly because I knew you didn’t 
want me corked. So I’m afraid it ought not to 
count.” 

Count how ? ” 

“ On my blue string.” She hesitated. Mother 
started me two strings of beads, one the loveliest 
shade of blue you ever saw, the other black. When- 
ever I lose my temper I have to thread a black bead 
and when I’ve kept it — when I wanted to lose it — 
I can add one to the blue string. But it’s so short! 
I don’t believe it will ever get long enough to 
wear.” 

How’s blacky ? ” 


79 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


It scares me to think about it.’^ 

I’ve got the dickens of a temper,” said Billy 
cheerfully. 

“ Oh, I hope it isn’t as bad as mine I ” 

Yours ! You don’t know anything about 
tempers.” 

She stared at him. The only good point about 
mine, mother says, is that I get over it quickly.” 

I don’t. You can’t make me mad easy, but if 

you do Gee whiz ! it’s done for keeps. I’m 

an everlasting hater when I hate.” 

Helen stopped short in the road. I do believe 
you’re proud of it I ” 

Don’t know that I quite catch on.” 

Why, I mean that you feel sort of grand about 
it — that you don’t get over being mad quick — -just 
as though a nasty bulldog temper was like — like 
— being clever at electricity or playing a fiddle 
the way Floyd does. You think it’s smart.” 

Billy’s lips puckered to a whistle. '' Who 
thinks she’s smart now. Miss Over-the-Wall ? ” 
plunging into the tangled roadside growth to in- 
vestigate a bird’s nest. 

Helen watched him, visions of possible toads 
hopping before her eyes. You went down so very 
far when you stepped off the traveled road. But 
there was Billy balancing on the fence and call- 
ing, Come and see.” Gripping her courage 
8o 


OFER THE fFALL 


tight, she plunged in. Side by side on a rail, they 
looked down at three eager open mouths. 

The greedy things ! ’’ 

‘‘ Hungry, old chap? ’’ Billy flicked at a gap- 
ing beak with a shady twig and cast about for 
more substantial offerings. Suppose they’d eat 
dragon-flies ? ” 

Helen caught his hand away. “ Don’t touch 
that pretty thing ! When we go the old robins 
will bring them worms. Listen to the fuss they’re 
making just because we’re here.” 

I might take one of the kidlets home to Moll,” 
he suggested teasingly. She’d chloroform him 
and pick him to pieces for a sight of his internal 
workin’s.” 

I don’t believe she’d do any such thing ! ” 

Oh, you. don’t, don’t you? Much you know 
about Zoo, Miss Seesaw. Wait till you get to col- 
lege, washing dishes for your living, and cutting 
up worms and toads to see how they’re made.” 
Does your sister do that ? ” 

Sure. She’s a crackerjack at it. Say, have 
you met any black snakes around here ? ” 

“ Mercy, no ! ” 

“ Big fat ones,” pursued Billy, no little shavers. 
Eight or ten feet preferred, corresponding girth. 
Moll’s birthday trots along next week and I 
thought if I could catch her a chunky slithery 

8i 


HELEN OVER-THE-JVALL 


ripper of a black snake, I’d hit the bullVeye. 
You needn’t pop your eyes out that way, Miss 
Over-the-Wall. Moll’s keen on snakes. Last 
summer she kept a little chap tied to a chair in 
her room, had him handy where she could study 
him. Wait till you see her coming home from a 
walk trailing steen feet of what you take for brown 
rope. That’s no jolly. Cross my heart. You’ve 
got a lot to learn about college yet.” 

But — what does she do it for ? ” 

Trot around with a snake at her belt? To see 
what they’ll do. Sometimes she cuts ’em up. 
They’re right neat inside, Moll says. But, my 
eye ! If you step on a caterpillar — one of the 
harmless kind — or knock over a bird with a pea- 
shooter, Moll’s in your hair. Wanton cruelty, she 
calls it. You’re just doing it to be mean. T’other’s 
science. And I’ll say for Moll that if she finds 
’em alive and they’re not a bad sort, she mostly 
lets her snakes go when she’s through with ’em. 
We had one little shaver last summer that re- 
fused to take to the bush again and lived under 
the piazza when he wasn’t squirming after Moll.” 
I’d like to know how much of this is true.” 

“ She asperses my voracity ! ” yelled Billy, re- 
gaining the road in two bounds. 

Gingerly Helen followed. Your sister doesn’t 
look like that kind of girl.” 

82 


OVER THE WALL 


What kind of girl ? he jeered. Ever see 
that kind of girl before ? How many kinds have 
you got salted down in your second-story front, 
Seesaw ? Molks no picture book. Molks a — sur- 
prise party. 

Privately Helen assented to this with all her 
soul, at the same time registering a mental note to 
be careful where she stepped in the gray cottage. 

But Billy was chuckling again. MolPs treas- 
ures don^t live in the house any more. Not since 
a little wiggler curled up for a nap one night last 
September in mother’s stocking. The stocking 
was hanging on the kitchen bars and Moll herself 
popped him in there in a hurry when some fellow 
or other wanted her to go rowing. In the morn- 
ing mother finds a hole in the pair she meant to 
put on and sallies out for those in the kitchen.” 
Billy grinned. Mother drew a line that day 
and drew it black. Here we are. Pick your 
hands full, but don’t stuff your pockets or you’ll 
be searched.” 

While Billy bought his baskets Helen wandered 
into the berry field. Over the long clean rows of 
fragrant plants bent busy pickers. The sun beat 
on their cone-crowned fiaring hats and deep-hooded 
sunbonnets. 

I should think they’d broil,” Helen said 
aloud. 


83 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


“ We do.’^ A girFs face smiled out of a pink 
calico calyx. But how can we help it, when the 
berries ripen faster than we can pick? I’ve just 
come on again after an hour’s rest. I began at 
five o’clock. Help yourself. They’ll rot if you 
don’t.” 

Helen sank down beside the picker and began 
eating and putting in her basket. 

You needn’t do that,” said the girl. 

I can’t eat as fast as I can pick. Do you live 
here ? ” 

No, a quarter of a mile through those trees. 
It’s a nice cool walk home.” 

Helen picked for five minutes and multiplied the 
time by sixty. It must be awfully hard work,” 
she said. 

“ It is hard — most things are that you get paid 
for.” 

Are you doing it for anything special ? Oh, I 
beg your pardon ! I ought not to have asked.” 

“ That’s all right. I don’t mind telling you. 
With the money I earn this summer and an old 
empty shed father has promised to let me use. I’m 
going to raise mushrooms and try to put myself 
through college.” 

Mushrooms ! ” 

“ There’s a good market for them in the city, and 
I’ve been studying and raising them on a small 
84 


OFER THE WALL 


scale for a year. People around here laugh at my 
scheme, but I believe in it and father is willing to 
let me try. I don^t mean to fail.” 

And I don’t believe you will,” cried Helen 
heartily, watching the deft, capable hands. But 
won’t you be fearfully old by the time ” Con- 

fusion choked her. 

‘‘ Not older than many girls. I’ll be twenty 
when I’m a freshman, if all goes well. Maybe that 
seems old to you. It doesn’t to me.” 

But why not go now and work your way through? 
That’s what I’m going to do in two years.” 

“ Because I don’t believe in dividing myself up 
like that. When I earn I’ll earn, but when I study 
I don’t want to have to take time to make money. 
I’ll economize and do without things and scheme 
to make ends meet, but I want the whole of my- 
self to give to mv college work. You get more out 
of it, I think.” 

'' That girl’s got sand,” Billy commented, when 
Helen repeated the conversation on the way home. 
“ But, I say, do you call raising mushrooms exactly 
— scholarly ? ” 

Whereupon Helen threw a strawberry at him and 
the discussion, ended in a wild race for the home 
gate, in the course of which Helen lost at least a 
third of the berries out of the cup she had care- 
fully platted from raspberry leaves. 

85 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Molly sat on the kitchen steps reading a letter. 

Father and mother are coming to-day at four- 
twenty,” she remarked. 

Thunderation I ” said Billy. 

Molly lifted her lovely eyes. '' I should think 
you’d be ashamed to look him in the face.” 

Ashamed of nothing,” growled Billy. A hard, 
cold mask had slipped over his face, shutting out 
the jollity. 

Oh, dear ! ” thought Helen, feeling as uncom- 
fortable as a third person generally does at some- 
body’s scolding. 

But it was the old merry Billy who steadied the 
step-ladder for her to climb back over the wall and 
handed up the little green cup, refilled from one of 
the baskets. 

“ Good-bye and come again,” called the brother 
and sister, and Harold piped in, “ ^Bye. Come 
’gen.” 

Helen measured the distance to the rustic seat, 
still where she had dragged it, let herself down by 
one arm, felt around wildly with both feet, missed 
the back, and, clutching the cup convulsively, 
pitched head first into the lemon lilies. Picking 
herself up, she stood a minute watching red 
trickles course down her dress. Then she rushed 
through the gardens and straight up to Cousin 
Anne’s room, her face set soldier-wise to the front. 

86 



I’VE BEEN OVER THE WALL 



OFER THE WALL 


“ Cousin Anne/^ she said, I’ve been over the 
wall.” 

Over the wall ? ” murmured Cousin Anne. 

The wall where the locked door is. Maybe I 
ought not to have gone, but I didn’t think of that 
till I’d got back. Molly — she’s the one who looks 
like an enchanted princess and is Phi Beta Kappa 
and loves to scrub and has snakes in her room — 
sent you this rosebud, because it’s the first one out 
at ‘ Gray Shingles.’ And Billy wishes he’d been 
here Sunday for the ice-cream. I had some straw- 
berries for you that I picked with the girl who’s 
going to college raising mushrooms — I mean rais- 
ing mushrooms to go — no, I don’t mean that either, 
the mushrooms aren’t going, she’s going. — But any- 
way I squashed them getting over the wall — the 
berries, I mean. And oh. Cousin Anne, you don’t 
mind, do you ? ” 

Cousin Anne lay silent a full minute before 
speaking. 

‘‘ What you have done is done, my dear,” she 
said at last, and no more need be said about it.” 

The girl’s heart gave a great bound. Then it 
was the book down-stairs I At least it wasn’t the 
Holbrooks. And the morning’s excursion was not 
going to have any consequences. Helen disliked 
consequences ; they were so apt to be unpleasant. 
But hadn’t she a letter ? 

87 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


The last of these jumbled thoughts slipped off 
the tip of her tongue at sight of a pile of envelopes 
by Cousin Anne’s bed. 

“ There are two down-stairs,” smiled the nurse. 

Helen fled. Phillis’s letter she read through 
twice before glancing at the second envelope. It 
bore handwriting strange to her and one of those 
undecipherable postmarks often stamped on trains. 
But there was no misreading its astonishing con- 
tents, which set her in breath-catching bewilder- 
ment to staring at the envelope lettered so plainly 
in an odd clear-cut script : 

Miss Helen Thayer 
Red Top ” 

Was she, after all, in an enchanted castle ? For 
the letter began Dear Nell,” and was signed, 
'' Your Fairy Godmother.” 


88 


CHAPTER V 


ENTER, THE FAIRY GODMOTHER 

‘‘About that matter of the locked door,'^ said 
the letter. “ Or shall I explain myself first? For 
a hundred to one you are as shivery and excited 
to be reading a letter from me as you were when 
you found the closed gate. 

“ Of course you knew, dear Nell, that every 
child is born with a fairy godmother. No? Don’t 
tell me that girls are brought up nowadays not to 
believe in such things ! Oh, it was only that you 
never expected to hear from me ? I don’t quite 
like that, either. 

“What do you know, goddaughter? Must I 
begin with the A B C of fairy talk? Some children 
have two or three of us and a few have more, like 
the Sleeping Beauty you may have heard of, 
who found she couldn’t safely draw the line 
anywhere. And let me tell you now that it is 
much better to have one good fairy godmother 
than too many. Everybody has one. If you 
think some of us lazy or blind or forgetful, think 
too that perhaps it isn’t all our fault. For there 
89 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


are two things to be remembered about fairy god- 
mothers. You can’t see to read our messages 
without spectacles. Yours ? Bless you I You’ve 
got them on this minute ! Why did you put up 
your hand ? Did you expect to feel the metal 
bridging your nose ? Fairy spectacles haven’t any 
nose-piece and they haven’t any glass, but they 
make all the difference in the world with what 
you see, as much difference as the kind you can 
feel made to the girl who had never seen the sepa- 
rate leaves on the trees. She had always supposed 
everybody saw trees her way — vague blobs of 
green. 

“ But I never could have sent you even a mes- 
sage if you hadn’t opened the way, and that is 
the second thing to remember about a fairy god- 
mother. Some time you will know why, when 
you went over the wall, you set wide the door for 
me to come through and talk to you. Never 
mind now. 

“ Now you will have enough to do thinking 
about me with my magic wand and my pumpkin 
coach and a great many other things that you 
have never even dreamed about. So pick up your 
skirts and skip with me 

“ Up and away 
Up and away 

Over the threshold to fairy play. 

90 


ENTER, THE FAIRT GODMOTHER 

Remember you have only to want me, and if 
you want me hard enough, I will come. 

^‘Affectionately, 

“ Your Fairy Godmother.'^ 

If Helen read the letter once she read it fifty 
times. She almost read it to tatters, and after the 
last reading it was as much of a mystery as at the 
first. She read it to make certain that she had 
read it right before and she read it to assure her- 
self that she had not dreamed it. For when it was 
out of her fingers nothing seemed more likely than 
that. It was too good to be true. After she knew 
it by heart she pinned it inside her dress so that the 
crisp rustle of its pages might confirm the words 
that quizzed themselves over and over in her brain. 

She felt like one of her own stories come to life. 
A fairy godmother? Why, a fairy godmother 
was the same kind of person as the genii in the 
Arabian Nights. Who could guess what she 
might not do ? 

All day the thought of her cuddled in Helen’s 
heart like a dewdrop in a rose. She kept expect- 
ing it to evaporate — and it didn’t. A timid hand 
stole under the pillow at sunup. The letter was 
still there. Oh, bliss and rapture ! After that 
she let herself go. A fairy godmother I A real 
live fairy godmother ! 


91 


HELEN OFER-THE-WALL 


The delirious joy of it skipped in her feet, sang 
in her voice, and laughed out of her eyes. She 
wanted to hug the whole world, she felt so glad. 
It was one of those days when nothing goes wrong. 
What if the washwoman had ripped off two 
buttons from the blue gingham she was trying 
to put on and, worse than that, had forgotten to 
send them home? What if the peonies refused 
to stay in the big green bowl and came tumbling 
out almost as fast as she stuck them in ? What 
if Floyd’s letter was only a note to say that every- 
thing was shipshape and he had been fishing the 
day before? What if Cousin Anne tired of the 
book they were reading just when Helen began 
to be interested and called for something else? It 
didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, except the fairy 
godmother. 

‘‘ My dear,” smiled the invalid as her tray ap- 
peared at the door, you have been a perfect 
little streak of sunshine this morning.” 

And Helen skipped down-stairs to her own din- 
ner with a new warmth added to the glow at her 
heart. 

Eating alone, she did not feel in the least soli- 
tary. Too many thoughts were chattering in her 
head for that. She did not think, ‘‘ Who is the 
fairy godmother ? ” Not for anything in the world 
would she have thought that. Helen had lived 
92 


ENTER, THE FAIRY GODMOTHER 


long enough to think it, but she had also lived 
long enough to know that such thoughts are dan- 
gerous. You cannot have a story come alive be- 
fore your eyes and question too closely who is ask- 
ing you to play in it. She did not even think as 
some girls might have done, '' I am rather old to 
care for a fairy godmother.” She had told the 
twins too many bedtime stories about fairy god- 
mothers and had enjoyed them too much herself 
to think that. 

Gradually out of the joyous hubbub in her brain 
emerged clearly a single recognition : the fairy 
godmother had something to do with the locked 
door. Of course she had known it ever since that 
first reading of the letter — was it not set down in 
black ink on white paper ? But you can know a 
thing in different ways, and not until now had the 
connection made a path into the very center of 
Helen’s attention. 

About that matter of the locked door — or shall 
I explain myself first?” 

Excitedly she pushed back her chair and made 
her way through the gardens. She must, she 
simply must, take a look at the door this minute. 
Against the wall of the fifth garden near the en- 
trance to the vegetable patch leaned a step-ladder, 
a hoe and rake sprawling beside it. Jo had evi- 
dently been busy here. Helen lifted the step- 
93 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


ladder and, bending a little under its weight on 
her hip, carried it along the garden path to the 
locked door. There she carefully set it against the 
wall and mounted. Not a Holbrook was in sight. 
The road ran, brown and empty, over the hill. She 
leaned her elbows on the top of the wall and looked 
down into the green nook where she had sat with 
Billy. 

How inviting it looked. And, as Billy said, 
how mysteriously secret so long as the door stayed 
shut. You could be almost anything down there. 
The lady of a beleaguered castle long ago who lay 
hidden in the hazel copse at the foot of the donjon 
tower, waiting for the rescuer who would swim to 
you across the turbulent yellow flood of road. Or 
a troubadour beneath your lady’s window — Helen 
liked masculine parts rather well ; they were apt 
to be more lively than feminine roles. The 
lady’s father would put you in irons if he found 
you out. Or a fearless captain with your gallant 
men at your back waiting for darkness to fling 
your scaling ladders at the walls of the enemy’s 
fortress. 

She threw her head back and looked straight up 
into the myriad of green leaves that dipped and 
turned and twinkled, letting the blue sky through. 
Down there flat on the grass, looking up like this, 
you could be a bird and go soaring, soaring far oflP 
94 


ENTER, THE FAIRT GODMOTHER 

into that blue, blue sky, so far off that you would 
almost forget how to come back. Helen felt sud- 
denly that there was no end to the things you 
could do in the green cubby-hole under the wall. 
But nothing told her what concern it was of the 
fairy godmother’s. 

Once more her eyes scrutinized the grass, the 
ferns, the bushes ; traveled up a tree trunk search- 
ingly ; broke off and jumped to the next. 

“ Why, how funny ! ” she said aloud. 

Half-way between the grass and the first branches 
on the side next the wall something had happened 
to a big oak. You did not notice it at first and 
you could not see it at all from the hiding-hole, 
but just there somebody some time had cut a rough 
figure on the tree. It must have been done long 
ago, for the oak had tried to grow over the gashes 
and had partially succeeded. 

Helen edged along the top of the wall on her 
knees until at imminent risk of a tumble she 
could put out her hand and by leaning down 
touch with her fingers the rude circle and the tri- 
angle inside. But that didn’t tell her anything 
either. It only deepened the mystery. For it 
was possible that the design on the oak trunk had 
nothing whatever to do with the fairy godmother. 
How could it? But then again it might. Had 
she not written, Some time you will know 
95 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


why, when you went over the wall, you set the 
door wide for me to come through ” ? 

When Helen returned to the house her dessert 
was cold. “ I didn’t mean to be so long, Mrs. 
Higgins,” she mourned. I just ran out for a 
minute, but I’ll never do it again. And I don’t 
mind cold pudding very much, truly I don’t.” 

“ Perhaps,” she was thinking, the next mes- 
sage will go on with that unfinished first sentence. 
Of course it will.” 

But it didn’t. That is, you couldn’t be sure 
that it did. For the next message was a yellow 
telegram that the maid laid beside Helen’s plate 
before she had eaten more than half a dozen spoon- 
fuls of the cold pudding. A telegram ! The girl’s 

heart jumped into her throat. Could mother 

Fear marshaled a dozen grizzly possibilities before 
the operator’s cryptic scrawl straggled under her 
eyes in stupefying bewilderment. 

Always look for the mark. 

F. Godmother.” 

The mark ! What mark ? The one on the 
tree? Were there more of them? 

It sounds like what the ads say,” Helen heard 
herself declaring as she pushed back her chair, 
too excited to eat. 


96 


ENTER, THE FAIRT GODMOTHER 

There was nothing for it but to institute an im- 
mediate inspection of all the trees on the place. 
An initial or two she found, but nothing remotely 
resembling the encircled triangle on the oak over 
the wall. 


97 


CHAPTER VI 


ALMOST A SLIP 

Of one thing Helen was certain. She would 
not tell the Holbrooks about the mysteries that 
were piling up so delightfully at “ Red Top.’’ It 
was more mysterious to keep them all to yourself. 
Billy would want to find an explanation, if he 
didn’t simply laugh at her, and Helen loathed be- 
ing laughed at, while Molly What would 

Molly do ? 

Helen considered the question, dangling her 
heels over the wall above the green cubby-hole. 
There was no boy in the cubby-hole this morning. 
There was no sign of life about the little gray 
house cuddled in the crooked apple trees. What 
would Molly do ? Why, Molly would love it all 
just as Helen loved it. Those slim rosy fingers of 
hers would trace the outline of the mark on the 
tree with the lingering caressing touch that Helen 
attributed to all her heroines, and Molly’s wonder- 
ful dark eyes would fiash at the thought of the 
fairy godmother. No, not fiash. Flash wasn’t 
the right word at all. What would happen in 
Molly’s eyes was more like an explosion behind 
98 


ALMOST A SLIP 


folds on folds of velvet. And Molly’s lovely low 
voice that sounded like maple taffy would say, 
“ A fairy godmother ! How perfectly delicious to 
have a fairy godmother ! ” 

Oh, but would she say just that ? Somehow the 
words did not ring quite true on Molly’s lips. 
Anyway, she would like it. She would be so in- 
terested that she would forget all about bugs and 
snakes, if she ever really cared for them. Prob- 
ably Billy had made up a good deal of that part 
of his story about Molly, though, of course, having 
studied so much zoology, she had to know some- 
thing of such creatures. Nevertheless, Helen was 
not going to tell Molly. She was not going to tell 
anybody. 

Suddenly she woke up to the fact that the road 
was not deserted. A small determined figure in 
blue checked rompers ” was trudging sturdily 
away in the direction that led, if you followed the 
road long enough, to town. The small person’s 
yellow head gleamed bright as the buttercups be- 
side the road. 

Helen felt around for the top rung of the piece 
of ladder she had seen beneath her feet, and also 
took the road to town. 

Good-morning, sweetheart,” she said. 

Mo’nin’,” said Harold briefly, but he smiled. 

You darling ! ” breathed the girl. 

99 


HELEN OVER-THE-JVALL 


They pursued their way in silence for a couple 
of minutes. 

Isn’t it a gorgeous morning ? ” Helen volun- 
teered. 

Harold allowed the remark to pass upon its 
merits, while his feet pattered straight ahead. 

“ Cousin Anne, poor dear ! can’t enjoy it. 
They’ve got her again, Harold. It’s really dread- 
ful when they get you like that. I hope I’ll never 
have sciatica. Would you like to take my 
hand ? ” 

Harold, however, thought it the better part of 
valor not to take her hand. You were never sure 
how you might get turned about if you took 
grown-ups’ hands. He did not explain his 
reasons. A couple of resolute head-shakings suffi- 
ciently defined his wishes. 

It’s nice to have company even if the company 
isn’t very sociable,” Helen remarked, to the world 
at large. 

Blue rompers continued to forge ahead. She 
loitered. Presently he looked around and waited. 
They went on together, side by side in the golden 
sunshine. A dark winged butterfly, brilliantly 
circled and banded, flitted across the road. Harold 
pursued it, clutching empty air, until the butterfly 
skimmed from the road over the wayside flowers. 
Brought up against the barrier of grass and butter- 
100 


ALMOST A SLIP 


cups, he stood pointing after the gorgeous wings. 
“ Pitty,’^ said Harold, screwing a smiling little face 
toward Helen. 

Sweet pretty,” she agreed enthusiastically. A 
lovely butterfly. Oh, you darling boy ! Aren’t 
you one big peach, though? ” 

The darling boy proceeded amiably. 

“ Do you know,” said Helen presently, I 
think it’s rather hot to walk to town this morning. 
I believe I’ll just go- as far as that big tree where 
the road turns. I’m going to sit down under it 
and keep very still, and maybe if I keep still 
enough. I’ll see a squirrel. I saw a squirrel over 
your stone wall yesterday, and he was coming right 
from this direction.” 

Harold remained non-committal. But when 
they came to the turn in the road there was a 
chipmunk waiting for them. Helen felt very 
grateful to the chipmunk. They watched him, 
still as mice, until suddenly Harold darted from 
under Helen’s hands with a sharp little Boo ! ” 
that sent the chipmunk scampering along the wall 
and out of sight. Then Helen sat down on a big 
brown root that jutted toward the road, and after a 
minute of uncertainty Harold cuddled down beside 
her. The day was won. 

How is Mr. Wiggy this morning ? ” inquired 
Helen. 

lOl 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


After that she did not miss the squirrel. Harold 
chattered enough for ten squirrels. 

Do you know/’ said the girl, I don’t think 
it’s quite safe to leave Mr. Wiggy so long alone, 
after what he did the other day. If I were you, 
I’d want to know what he was doing now.” 

So they returned, as happy and determined as 
they went. 

“ Hello, where’d you find him. Seesaw ? ” asked 
Billy. 

“ We walked down the road a little way,” said 
Helen. 

Molly looked up from something she was busy 
with on the step and nodded, smiling. Helen 
caught her breath. Molly was as pretty as she 
had thought she was. There had been minutes in 
the last day or two when Helen had been sure she 
must have dreamed part of Molly’s prettiness. But 
no, here she was in the full sunlight of a June morn- 
ing and Helen’s memory had not played her false. 

But there were other people smiling at her ; a 
little brown bird-like woman who pushed open the 
screen door to take Helen’s hands and tell her she 
was glad they had so thoughtful a young neighbor, 
and a tall, bearded man who pitched a curl of 
shaving into Harold’s lap and asked Helen 
whether she would rather have her book shelves 
stained or painted white. 

102 


ALMOST A SLIP 


Molly is all for stain and mother for white 
paint/’ said the big man as he planed briskly. 

Billy wisely sits on the fence. I think mother’d 
better have it her way, don’t you ? ” 

Helen smiled back at him, uncertain what to 
say. 

So you’re on the fence, too,” he exclaimed. 

Well, well, that’s hard on me. The house is 
divided against itself. What shall it be, mother ? 
These boards are ready for something.” 

Stain Molly’s,” decreed Mrs. Holbrook, and 
paint white the shelves for the living-room to 
match the woodwork.” 

There spoke the general,” said Mr. Holbrook. 

Everybody ought to be satisfied with that decision. 
No fences for your mother, Billy. See how she 
cuts the Gordian knot.” 

“ What a lot of books you must have I ” cried 
Helen, eying the pile of planed boards. 

Have,” said Billy. Brought up on ’em, so to 
speak. Cut our teeth on ’em and sat on ’em in- 
stead of high chairs, didn’t we, Moll?” 

A pile of them makes a perfectly good seat,” 
said Molly, when you don’t happen to have chairs 
handy. But Harold’s high chair is coming if the 
express company ever gets it through.” 

'' I’ll bet the agent’s baby is feeding in it,” Billy 
declared. Bump’s chair would have got here a 
103 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


dozen times over if they hadn^t side-tracked it for 
use. Which are mother’s, dad ? I’ll paint ’em.” 

“ You really don’t need very much else in a 
room if you have plenty of books,” Mrs. Holbrook 
was saying to Helen. 

Molly laughed. ‘‘ Mother thinks they make the 
best wall-paper there is.” 

The most homelike, enduring and comfort- 
able paper to live with, Molly. Age only improves 
them to the sight. Put books into a house and it 
is more nearly furnished than by anything else 
you can name.” 

“ I never heard of sleeping on ’em,” objected 
Billy. 

They would be softer than a Chinese kang,” 
Mrs. Holbrook returned. I’m sure of that.” 

“ Every man, woman, and child ought to have a 
library of his or her own,” said Mr. Holbrook. 

I don’t care how small it is, let it be the books 
he likes to live with. Reading public library 
books all the time and nothing but public library 
books is like renting your clothes at a pressing 
club.” 

Molly’s eyes twinkled. The Holbrook family 
is now mounted on one of its pet hobbies,” she re- 
marked to Helen. I hope you don’t disagree 
with us.” 

I think it’s lovely to hear you talk,” said 
104 


ALMOST A SLIP 


Helen. But I have to get most of mine at the 
public library when I^m home. We can’t afford 
to buy many. Do you really each have a library 
all your own ? ’’ 

^ Far more seemly were it for thee to have 
thy studie full of Bookes than thy Purses full of 
monye/ ” quoted Father Holbrook. We each 
own the books we like best and cart some of them 
around with us. Witness these shelves.” 

‘‘They look alike now,” grinned Billy, “ but what 
they hold will be mighty different. If I met 
Moll’s shelf in Patagonia I’d ask, ‘ Where’s 
Moll?’” 

“ People reveal themselves in their reading more 
clearly than in any other way,” said Mrs. Holbrook. 
“ Show me what a man reads and I’ll tell you what 
kind of a man he is.” 

“ Mother’s theory would go hard with Moll,” 
Billy chuckled. “ I’d defy anybody to recognize 
her on sight just by looking at the books that are 
going on these shelves.” 

“ They reflect very clearly Molly’s tastes and in- 
terests,” said his mother. 

“ What books are going on her shelves?” Helen 
queried. 

“ ‘ How to Tell the Birds from the Crocodiles,’ ” 
chirruped Billy, “ Thingummy on ‘ What Hap- 
pened Before Anything was Here,’ What’s-His- 
105 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Name’s ^ Wild Animals that Didn’t See Me/ am 
other fellow on ^ Why I’m Not the Way I Wasn’t/ 
Somebody Else’s ‘ Great Snakes and Little Tad- 
poles/ all toeing a straight line with Billy Shake- 
speare, Charlie Dickens, and a bunch like that. 
Oh, she’s got a few that aren’t dead thrown in, but 
mostly Moll likes her specimens of book-writers 
preserved.” 

Don’t mind him,” said Molly calmly, but come 
up and help me put in the books when the shelves 
are dry. Then I’ll show you Billy’s, and you can 
judge which is the worse mixture.” 

A mixture is a good thing,” said Mr. Holbrook. 

You keep wide awake on a mixture. No part of 
you goes to sleep.” 

Ever read ‘ Last of the Mohicans ’ ? ” asked 
Billy. 

Helen nodded. I wept quarts over the end of 
it, too.” 

'' Huh I ” said Billy. You’re a girl, all 
right.” 

Who didn’t care anything about going on a 
picnic the day that he finished ‘ The Last of the 
Mohicans’?” Molly inquired. “Seems to me 1 
remember somebody backed out a few years ago. 
He’d been pretty keen on the picnic up to the 
time he finished the book.” 

“ I wouldn’t own to a library that couldn’t spot 
io6 


ALMOST A SLIP 


me that little thing youVe got in your hand,” 
hedged Billy. 

What is it ? ” Helen asked, moving up on the 
step beside Molly. 

She doesn’t know,” said the boy. None of her 
books will tell her.” 

And now Helen saw for the first time what 
Molly was doing. She was playing, actually play- 
ing, with what Helen called a “ disgusting horrid 
slithery old worm.” It was undeniably a worm, 
though Molly combated Helen’s other charges, 
substituting such adjectives as nice dry distin- 
guished young worm.” 

Look at his lovely color,” she besought. That 
delicate apple green. He’s a real aristocrat among 
worms. Did you ever see one like him before?” 

No indeed.” Privately Helen hoped she never 
would see another. How could a girl like Molly 
like such things ? But if Molly did, and it was 
undeniably evident that Molly liked them, why 
then perhaps they weren’t so dreadfully disgust- 
ing, after all. Nothing that Molly liked could 
really be disgusting, Helen thought. Still she 
eyed the worm askance. 

He’s a lovely color,” she admitted. But I’d 
rather have his color in something else.” 

But I tell you he’s a very distinguished gen- 
tleman,” said Molly. He’s so distinguished that 
107 


HELEN OFER-THE-PFALL 


his picture isn’t in the books, or his description, 
either, so far as we can find.” 

“ He’s not in the rogue’s gallery yet,” com- 
mented the irrepressible Billy. 

“ And father never saw one like him,” Molly 
continued. “ So maybe he’s a new species.” 

Want him named for you ? ” persisted her 
brother. Molly — ha — molecule ! That’s what 

we’ll call him. Molecule, a recent acquisition to 
the fauna of North America, discovered by Miss 
Maria Holbrook. Reads well — yes ? ” 

“ I should think he’d be horribly squshy.” 
Helen still eyed the worm askance. 

Billy shouted. You’ve an eye to the main 
point. Seesaw. Only don’t let Moll catch you at it, 
that’s all.” 

« We’re going to keep him in this box,” Molly 
explained, with air holes, of course, and plenty 
of cool green leaves such as we found him eating, 
and with glass over the top, so we can watch and see 
what he does. I’m sorry you don’t like him.” 

Helen hesitated. “ I don’t dislike him as much 
as I did. But I’m glad you’re going to keep him 
in a box.” 

Hate to meet him in the open, wouldn’t you ? ” 
said Billy. 

Helen acknowledged that she would. 

“ I’d like to borrow old Mol and put him in her 
io8 


ALMOSiT A SLIP 

room some night/' whispered Billy a minute later 
to his sister. 

Billy Holbrook/' said Molly softly, if I ever 
hear of you playing a trick like that on any girl, 
I'll make you wish you hadn't as long as you 
live." 

What's the harm ? " 

“ It's dangerous, that's the harm. You don't 
know what it might do to her. It might make 
her an invalid for the rest of her life." 

Oh, shucks ! " 

“ No shucks about it. I knew a girl at a camp 
once who was ill for years because some joker put 
a harmless little snake in her bed. She isn't now 
the girl she would have been if she hadn't had 
that scare." 

Pretty wishy-washy to begin with, I guess." 

Nothing wishy-washy about her. Different 
from you, and from me, too, that's all. Hand me 
a few more of those leaves, please." 

Now I'm going to chop up another box of 
books in the shed," Billy announced. Want to 
read 'em as they fall. Seesaw ? " 

Helen went with Billy and spent a happy half 
hour stacking books as he handed them out, fin- 
gering and glancing and reading now and then. 
Nevertheless, all the time she had a feeling as 
though somebody had stood her on her head and 
109 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


shaken her. She could not make the universe 
come right side up. That a girl^with a face like 
Molly^s should like to wash dishes and play with 
long, fat, green worms was incredible. But she 
did. Helen couldn’t help believing what she had 
seen with her own eyes. She believed the snake 
story now ; she was forced to believe it. If Molly 
hadn’t had that face — but then Molly had the 
face. And certainly homeliness did not incline 
you to like worms. Helen was plain, and Helen 
didn’t like worms. And yet she couldn’t help 
feeling that if she could only get over the surprise 
of it, she would know that it was actually pretty 
to see Molly play with a large, green worm. 
Helen’s horizon was widening rapidly. 

As it was, she could not keep away from Molly. 
But when she came in sight of her again, Molly 
was doing nothing queer at all. Molly was play- 
ing in the shavings with Harold. Such lovely 
straw-colored curls as flew through the air. Has- 
tily Helen deposited her books and ran to join 
them. A three-cornered battle raged joyously, 
punctuated by Harold’s happy yelps and the gay 
laughter of the girls. Billy joined for a while, and 
there were four until Mother Holbrook wanted 
some strawberries and Billy flew off on his bicycle 
to get them. 

That reminded Helen of the fact that it might 
no 


ALMOST A SLIP 


some time be necessary for her to go home. A 
cordial invitation pressed her to stay to dinner, 
but she heroically refrained. 

I think I ought to go and see how Cousin 
Anne is feeling, I truly do. I'd love to stay. 
You know I would, don't you ? Only she really 
was feeling so horrid this morning." 

Come again," said Mrs. Holbrook, and come 
often. You and your cousin are our nearest 
neighbors. My regards to her. Molly, did you 
thank Miss Bates for the ice-cream ? " 

I sent a little note, mother." 

Molly walked with Helen to the gate. Had one 
of her own heroines come alive beside her ? She 
was so happy it almost made her sad. Through 
the gate and across the road they went. 

This is Billy's nook, isn't it? What a dear 
little place ! " 

Helen looked at Molly, and her heart suddenly 
beat so fast she thought it would suffocate her. 

“ Would you — would you come up on the wall?" 
she asked shyly. There is something I'd like to 
show you." 

Of course. I'll come," said Molly. What 
fun ! " 

Up they went, Helen leading the way. Molly 
stood, erect and graceful, on the garden wall. 

Isn't it fun to be above the earth I " she cried. 


Ill 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


** You feel so free and light, as though you could 
spread your wings and fly. I wonder what kind 
of a birdwoman I’d make. It must be glorious to 
swoop and wheel and soar with nothing but sky 
around you. Oh, that garden ! It’s the most 
wonderful garden I ever saw. I don’t wonder 
you wanted me to see it from here.” 

“ It wasn’t that,” said Helen. I mean that 
wasn’t the reason why I asked you to come up. 
You will have to turn around and stoop down, 
like this, and then ” 

A delighted cry broke from Molly’s lips. 

Helen sighed contentedly. “ I hoped you’d 
like it,” she said. 

“ Like it ! My dear, why didn’t you tell me 
before ? ” 

I haven’t known about it myself very long.” 

Oh, but you should have spoken at once I 
Forgive me, I’m so excited.” 

Helen beamed. That’s all right then. I thought 
you would be, but I wasn’t quite sure. Isn’t it 
the loveliest mystery ? ” 

Molly nodded. It’s poetry. What’s that Ten- 
nyson says about the little flower in the rock? 
You know it. But we mustn’t sit here — or, yes 
we must, too. Only I wish father could see it. I 
must get him.” 

“ Does he like such things ? ” 

II2 


ALMOST A SLIP 


Loves them. Knows all about them. If I ever 

know one quarter as much as father does 

There ! it moved. I’m afraid it will fly before I 
can get him.” 

Fly I ” gasped Helen. What — what are you 

looking at ? ” 

Her own eyes, lovingly bent on the mysterious 
carving on the oak trunk, turned to Molly Hol- 
brook’s. Molly’s eager gaze went above the mark ; 
she did not even see it. Swiftly Helen’s followed 
the direction of Molly’s absorbed look to — a great, 
pale green winged thing clinging to the oak’s 
bark. 

It’s a lunar,” Molly whispered. A perfect 
lunar moth. I never saw one so big. Oh, you 
beauty ! ” 

Helen blinked. The moth was very beautiful. 
Helen had never imagined anything with wings so 
lovely as this thing. Her admiration of its beauty 
seemed to set Molly back again in her rightful 
place as a girl. But it was not what she had ex- 
pected Molly to see. It was not what she had 
brought her to see. Helen fought a sharp, silent 
battle with herself before she spoke. 

Shall I go for your father ? ” 

“ Oh, please. Then I won’t have to take my 
eyes off it.” 

Helen need not have feared for the safety of her 

113 


HELEN OVER-THE-JVALL 

mystery. When she came back, bringing Mr. Hol- 
brook, Molly met them in the road. 

It flew,’^ she said. Down this way. I 
couldn^t keep it in sight from the wall. But I 
think we can find it, father.’^ 

They did find it, after a long search, and Helen 
was thanked and praised in a way she found em- 
barrassing under the circumstances. She did not 
explain. How could she tell Molly that she had 
seen the wrong thing, the thing Helen had not 
known was there to be seen ? After all, Molly had 
seen the thing she ought to have seen, the thing 
she had eyes to see. 

And I never saw it at all,^^ Helen said to herself 
as she climbed back alone over the wall, though it 
was right there as plain to me as to Molly, you’d 
think. I ought to be grateful to that moth. It 
kept me from telling. And I don’t believe Molly 
would have understood. Molly is good for every- 
thing else, but I don’t think she’s good for mys- 
teries.” 

In the iris garden Helen stopped a minute to 
drink in the beauty of the soldier ranks that on 
every side wheeled and marched in lines of color. 
A sense of regained safety blessed her. The secret 
was her own, the more her own for having come 
so near to being shared. And meanwhile Molly 
remained the prettiest girl she ever saw. 

114 


CHAPTER VII 


BY EXPEESS 

The spell of the fairy godmother held. Not 
even a call from two insipid looking girls with 
blue china eyes who inconsiderately broke into 
Helen's further cogitations over the tree and the 
telegram and stayed and stayed until she was con- 
vinced they didn't know how to get away, banished 
her good nature. 

We're going to have a party, day after to-mor- 
row," said the taller of the girls, whose name was 
Frink, “ and mother said we must be sure to ask 
you, because our sister knows yours — the one who's 
been up here so often." 

Oh, May ! " breathed the shorter, that doesn't 
sound right. We really wanted you ourselves " — 
to Helen — I mean we would have wanted you if 
we'd only known you." 

I'm sure I didn't say anything, Belle. Yes, 
we've been trying to get here for a week, but we've 
had company and all sorts of things going on. 
We've really been very gay," giggling gently. 

“ I shall like to know the girls here," said Helen 
cheerfully, “ if you're all as interesting as one I 

115 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


found yesterday picking strawberries. Who is 
she ? The girl who plans to raise mushrooms, you 
know, and go to college.^’ 

The Frinks stared. 

Oh, you must mean Sarah Stuart ! May be- 
gan to laugh. She will hardly be at our party. 

“ I should say not I agreed Belle. But — er 
— Miss Thayer couldnT be expected to know, 
May.’^ 

I^m not Miss Thayer. That’s Phil. My name 
is Helen. No, I suppose the strawberry season isn’t 
over yet.” 

Mother doesn’t call on Sarah Stuart’s mother,” 
explained May Frink. They’re awfully poor and 
live so far out of the village, and — well, Sarah isn’t 
in our set at all.” 

“ Stuck up prigs ! ” thought Helen. Who do 
you go with ? ” she asked. 

“ The names won’t mean anything to you,” said 
May, until after the party.” She rattled off a 
string of Janes, Dorothys, Sues, and Alices. 
“ They’re the nicest girls in town ; mother’s very 
particular about our friends. So you needn’t be 
afraid to come. And the boys are simply grand. 
Do you like boys ? ” 

“ Don’t know ’em much except Floyd. Some of 
’em look jolly and some of ’em don’t. There’s a 
jolly one up here, Billy Holbrook.” 

ii6 


BT EXPRESS 

“ Billy Holbrook 1 Oh, do you know him ? ” 
in duet. 

The girls are all wild over him,^^ chirped Belle. 

I do think he^s the handsomest thing I ” 

Do you ? I’d call him rather plain, bright- 
looking, of course. But his sister,” — Helen’s eyes 
sparkled now. Have you seen his sister ? ” 

The Frinks laughed. 

Of course. She’s a raving beauty, but — 
queer ! Oh ! Oh ! Why, she came into father’s 
store one day last week carrying a lizard in her 
hand. In her hand, mind you. A lizard she’d 
picked up somewhere. And she asked father for 
an empty box or something to take it home in. 
She lined the box with leaves and punched holes 
in the top. And when he told us at supper, father 
said it reminded him of when he was a boy and had 
his room running over with lizards and frogs and 
mice and — and — all sorts of nasty things. She 
and father got quite chummy talking about them. 
Did you ever hear of such a thing for a girl to do ? ” 

You learn all about animals like those in col- 
lege,” said Helen calmly. 

“ But to carry them about with you ! I don’t 
think it’s quite — ladylike.” 

Oh, May I ” 

Well, I don’t. You wouldn’t touch one your- 
self, Belle, and you know it I ” 

117 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Dish-washing is ladylike, isn’t it ? ” Helen 
asked. ‘‘ Molly Holbrook loves housework.” 

“ Dish-washing — ugh ! It spoils your hands 

so,” said May. 

Then you don’t like it? Fussing around in 
nice soapy water with one of those long sticks with 
string on the end ? ” 

Belle smoothed her waist carefully. I see 
you’re an admirer of Miss Holbrook. We won’t 
dispute her face. But, May, really oughtn’t we to 
be starting back ? ” 

“ Now don’t forget. Three o’clock, you know. 
So glad you can come.” 

Helen drew a long breath as the carriage disap- 
peared down the drive. But a party is a party, and 
few well-regulated girls fail to muster a thrill or 
two over the idea, however little the fact may 
prove to their taste. “ Maybe the other girls will 
be different. You never can tell,” thought Helen 
as she ran up-stairs to consult her wardrobe. 

If you have a lot of clothes or if you aren’t 
everlastingly messing up the ones you’ve got,” she 
remarked to the closet at large, a party must be 
perfectly simple. Or even if you’re home where 
Phillis can mend you,” lifting down her organdie, 
and iron you and put a little briskness into your 
limpness.” The organdie wilted on the bed. 
That’s because I stayed out in the dew night be- 

ii8 


Br EXPRESS 


fore last, I suppose. Phil told me to be careful 
and always lift it up and avoid dampness. Oh, 
oh, what a mess ! Maybe I could wash it — do 
you wash organdies? Well, anyway it^s only my 
second best, but 

A dubious hand reached after the very best and 
brought out a blue flowered muslin. You’re 
perfectly good-looking in front,” she mused, hold- 
ing it by the shoulders at arm’s length, even if 
you are one of Phillis’s made-overs. Most of my 

clothes were hers some time or other. Only ” 

she whisked it around, revealing a jagged tear that 
ripped a long swathe through the bachelor’s but- 
tons at the back. Nasty old thing I And I’m 
no good at mending a place like that. It runs 
pretty straight though, and skirts are so skimpy 
now — why not cut it right out ? I’ll bet I could. 
But first ” 

She dived again into the closet. 

One soiled linen and not another thing built 
for a party. Where are my scissors? Oh, but 
wouldn’t Phil have a fit to see me ! ” 

Snip — snip — snip went the scissors. After them 
coursed Helen’s needle, gathering up the ragged 
edges into a neat straight seam. “ For I can do 
plain sewing,” she reflected cheerfully, even if I 
don’t lay out the plan just like a dressmaker. 
Phil would rip out that whole breadth and fit a 
119 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


new one. But I haven^t any pieces, and even Phil 
couldn’t do it without pieces. How nice and 
quick this goes I I’ll try it on and then run down 
and look up mark in the dictionary. Maybe 
there’s some queer old meaning that will give me 
a clue to what she wants me to do. Having a 
fairy godmother makes life tremendously thrill- 
ing.” 

The dress dropped over her head, fingers flew 
at every other button, and Helen whirled around, 
mirror in hand, before the long glass set in the 
closet door. 

“ Oh, dear ! ” she ejaculated, the straight up-and- 
down lines deepening between her eyebrows. 
‘‘ Why — why, it doesn't look the way I thought it 
would at all ! ” 

For a minute she stared in silence ; then the 
hand-glass pitched into the middle of the bed and 
Crosspatch stalked to the window. Nasty old 
thing ! ” she muttered. I’ve a great mind not to 
go to that old party, anyway. I can’t if I haven’t 
any clothes, can I? Oh, dear — I wish I had a 
new dress ! Not a dress made over from anybody 
else’s, but brand fire, spick and span, straight-from- 
the-shop new ! ” 

Something rustled under the arm against which 
the girl leaned. Slowly the frown lifted ; tiny 
crinkles of pleasure puckered the corners of her 
120 


BT EXPRESS 

eyes; her lips curved. “ I expect therein be plenty 
of girls there with new dresses/' she said dreamily, 
“ but I’ll bet there won’t be anybody else who has 
had a letter from her fairy godmother ! ” 

Crossing the room, she plucked the mirror from 
the bed and surveyed her disappointing back. 

Of course, it isn’t right, but my blue sash will 
cover the worst — I’ll make the ends hang down 
long. And perhaps people will think it’s a new 
style, too new to have reached Vermont. But I 
must remember to face front every minute I can. 
What’s that, Margaret — Jo ready now ? ” to the 
maid at the door. “ Why, how slow I’ve been 1 
Tell him I’ll be down in just a jitf.” 

It was a breathless, pink-cheeked girl who three 
minutes later sprang to the seat beside Jo for the 
drive to town. It was a girl more breathless and 
pinker-cheeked who jumped out after an hour and 
rushed up to Cousin Anne’s room, both arms 
clasped around a long brown bundle. 

‘‘ Oh, Cousin Anne ! ” she cried, we stopped at 
the express office for your books and they hadn’t 
come, but the man said there was a package for 
me. For me ! Why, I thought he wasjoking. I 
never had such a thing in my life ! But he said, 
wasn’t I Miss Helen Thayer, and I couldn’t deny 
my name printed right out in black on the wrapper. 
It’s a box ! I’ve squeezed it, but it won’t give a 

I2I 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


bit. And fat ! Oh, look at it ! Look at it ! Who 
do you suppose could have sent it ? There’s a label 
with the name of a firm in New York, but I never 

even heard of them and Is it all right for 

me to open it. Cousin Anne ? ” 

Certainly, if it is directed to you. Let me see. 
Yes, the name is plain enough.” 

“ Here, Cousin Anne ? ” Helen’s hat flew one 
way, her linen coat another. Oh, please may I 
open it here? We always open things together at 
home. It’s so much more exciting having some- 
body to look on.” 

“ Yes — yes. Of course. Don’t you want to cut 
that cord ? ” 

“ I do, but I won’t. I’d get into it too quickly. 
Phillis says if you untie every knot and roll up 
your string, the thrills last four times as long. 
And the tighter the knots,” picking desperately, 
the better Phil likes them. You can guess all 
the time about what’s coming, but just as soon as 

you get inside, you know, and then Where 

are those scissors. Cousin Anne? I’ll never get 
into it this way. Why, I’m shaking just like a — 
corn-popper ! ” 

Rip ! Slash I Cord and wrapping-paper fell 
away. A box emerged, long and white and dain- 
tily monogrammed. With trembling fingers Helen 
lifted the cover, cautiously peeped between folds 
122 


BT EXPRESS 

of tissue-paper, and dropped in a white little heap 
on the floor. 

“ Why, child, what's the matter ? " 

Oh, Cousin Anne, I'm scared." 

“ Helen Thayer, if you don't tell me in half a 

second what's inside that box " 

Slowly the girl pulled aside the paper. Lips 
parted, chest heaving, she poured over the box. 

» Helen " 

I think — I almost think — it's — a — dress ! " 

A dress I And you expect me to wait 

Aren't you going to look at it ? " 

Helen put out excited hands and drew them 
back hastily. “ It can't be for me. Cousin Anne, 
it can't be ! " 

Then why on earth should it be addressed to 

you, child ? But of course " 

With a little cry the girl dived into the box and 
brought out an oblong card of heavy white paper. 
The card bore no word of print or writing, but il- 
luminated on one end was a little flgure that made 
you think of a seed of thistledown, so dainty and 
ethereal and imperceptibly in motion it seemed. 
Two butterfly wings of the most delicate colors in 
the world enfolded it and between them the face 
peeped out, shy and whimsical and gently smiling. 

A lovely color flushed Helen's cheeks. Al- 
ways look for the mark," whispered the telegram 
123 


HELEN OFER-THE-WALL 


in her ear. “ Perhaps it is meant for me/' she 
said. 

Cousin Anne lay and watched her lift from the 
folds of rustling tissue something white and sheer 
and delicately embroidered that as she held it up 
developed sleeves, waist, and skirt. 

0- o-o-h ! " breathed the girl softly. 

A very pretty gown,” commented Cousin 
Anne, and looks as though it would fit. Quite 
apropos, I should say, of the party. Now do you 
mind telling me what this is all about ? ” 

The glow deepened in Helen's face. 

1 — I think,'' she faltered, wishing she need not 
speak at all, that it must come from — from my — 
my fairy godmother.” 

“ Indeed ? That's interesting, my dear. You 
are in communication with her, then ? ” 

Don't laugh ! Oh, please don't,” Helen im- 
plored. I haven't told Phillis — I haven't told 
anybody. Phillis would think it was her duty to 
try and find some stupid easy explanation and I 
don't want any explanation. I — just — want — the 
— fairy godmother.” Hastily she ran over the 
story of the letter and her wish. 

Laugh ? ” echoed Cousin Anne. My dear, 
I have no desire to laugh. Personally, I have 
always believed in fairy godmothers, though mine 
never saw fit to write to me or forward embroid- 
124 


Br EXPRESS 


ered batiste gowns by express. You must put it 

on and see But a fairy gift ought not to need 

human stitches, though I was going to say perhaps 
we could manage one or two in case the fairy 
guessed wrong anywhere.’^ 

Helen turned such radiant eyes on the couch 
that its occupant blinked. 

Cousin Anne, I’d like to hug you I ” she cried. 

You say the darlingest things I I believe inside 
we’re lots alike, after all.” 

Perhaps we are, my dear. I’ve noticed some- 
thing of the sort myself. It was kind of her to 
put in her photograph.” 

An ecstatically contented girl slept under the 
morning-glories, and woke to read to Cousin 
Anne, speculate about the fairy godmother, and 
dress for the party. The oak tree did not entice 
her at all to-day. Its puzzle would keep. Could 
the fairy godmother have meant that kind of a 
mark, too? Anyway, she meant this, this dear 
delicious utterly lovely card that stood even now 
on Helen’s dressing table in the place of honor be- 
side mother’s picture. 

With all her thinking she still tried to be care- 
ful not to carry her speculations too far. When an 
over inquisitive little thought popped up in her 
brain and said, Who ? ” as it had started to say be- 
fore, she promptly pushed it down. But now and 
125 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


then it got ahead of her. That old friend of 
mother’s who sent the yearly box of half worn 
clothing and who had stopped at the house last 
spring and when she went away left a perfectly 
good blue serge for Phillis and a promise of some- 
thing later for Helen, had not looked like batiste 
from New York. But then she had not looked 
like a fairy godmother, though she had lovely 
eyes and was better company than any girl Helen 
had ever seen, and wrote fascinating letters in a 
hand which — yes, now she came to think about it, 
Mrs. James’s writing surely did look just the least 
little bit like the fairy godmother’s. As it would 
look, Helen decided, if Mrs. James had tried de- 
liberately to disguise the way she naturally wrote. 
They both made the same kind of g’s and t’s, and 
of course since Mrs. James insisted on hearing 
twice a week how mother was, she had also heard 
of Helen’s visit to Red Top.” But how had she 
known about the locked door? Had Cousin Anne 
told her or had she found it out for herself when she 
was up here visiting, where she and mother and 
Cousin Anne used to play together as children ? 

“ Stop ! ” ordered Helen’s will imperiously. 

You said you didn’t want to know. Now look 
what you’ve done.” 

“ I’ll forget,” whispered the girl, blushing. 

I’ll forget just as hard as I can.” 

126 


BT EXPRESS 


^^Then you mustn’t try to guess,” will said 
bluntly. It’s a game, a perfectly lovely game. 
Play the game.” 

Dressing for the party in the way she dressed 
for this party was something Helen had all her 
life longed to do. The gown fitted like a charm. 
One tiny stitch Mrs. Higgins took in the skirt 
didn’t count. Perhaps it was a charm, thought 
the girl, set to last just so many hours, and after 
the party she might find in its place only a vanish- 
ing bit of white cloud, a handful of cobwebs and 
a bunch of wilted daisies. But anyway it didn’t 
go by the clock, or, if it did, the schedule had 
been omitted. The fairy godmother had said no 
word of an hour when, Cinderella-wise, she must 
be home. Helen almost wished she had. It 
would be so much more exciting. 

And then at last she was ready, all but her 
dress, as sleek and shining and clean from her 
braided hair to ^her little white shoes as brushes 
and soap and water and irons could make her. 
And Mrs. Higgins was slipping it over her head 
and buttoning it up behind to make sure she 
didn’t strain the delicate cloth trying to fasten it 
herself, while Helen, speechlessly happy, stood in 
front of the mirror. But it wasn’t the curllessness 
of her hair or the plainness of her eyes or the 
curious disposition of her nose that she was look- 
127 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


ing at — it was her dress, the wonderful fairy god- 
mother’s wonderful gift. 

Dear me, I’d like to go to a party myself,’^ 
cried Cousin Anne when she saw her. Put on 
my dust coat, child. It’s too big, but no matter, 
driving. Now good-bye and have a good time.” 

And Helen had a good time. As she reviewed 
the occasion afterward that was the most surpris- 
ing thing about it. She never remembered hav- 
ing had such a good time at a party. It seemed to 
run itself. The girls were so pleasant and the 
boys were so easy to talk to that you found your- 
self chattering away just as you would at home. 

It was a party with games set out on little tables 
sprinkled over a big lawn. You found your part- 
ner by splicing a broken quotation, and after that 
you moved on from table to table as you won, or 
stayed where you were as you lost. Helen’s part- 
ner was a big overgrown boy with the best inten- 
tions in the world and the stupidest way of carry- 
ing them out. The two had joined fortunes for 
the afternoon by rhyming : 

“ Pussy said to the Owl, ^ You elegant fowl ! ’ ” 
But if Sam Bentley was owlish, Helen soon de- 
cided she would have to revise her notions of the 
bird. 

Hello,” cried Billy Holbrook, joining them 
with May Frink at the author’s table. You 
128 


BT EXPRESS 


here, Seesaw ? Good ! Get home without brain- 
ing anybody the other day ? 

I had the best of reasons why,^’ laughed Helen. 

There wasn’t anybody to brain.” 

But if he had not been able, quite without know- 
ing it, to borrow a rosy reflection from her own 
unfadeable cheerfulness, I am afraid Helen would 
before long have wanted to brain her partner. 
Players came and players went, but the Owl and 
the Pussy Cat hung stolidly at the author’s table, 
while he distributed cards right and left and threw 
away her choicest secrets with the agility of a 
blunderbuss. At the flsh-pond, where by main 
skill she Anally succeeded in dragging him, he 
rose to the hook nobly and baited his flsh with a 
rapidity that fairly shot them on to anagrams. 
There they stuck tighter than ever, and there 
Billy and his hostess, whizzing on their jubilant 
course, caught up with them again, and Helen 
had to sit and tuck in her smiles with Billy’s 
naughty eyes teasing and grimacing while his face 
held steady as a clock. 

But then a whistle blew and Belle Frink came 
around gathering up score-cards and two or three 
ladies began to spread white cloths on the little 
tables. 

Everybody change partners,” sang out Billy, 
*‘and run around the lawn I ” 

129 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Snatching Helen’s hand, he was off, the rest 
following helter-skelter after a minute of surprised 
stares and giggles. 

Talk about twaddle I ” Billy growled. Queer 
bunch, isn’t it ? ” 

“ Why, I thought they were quite nice.” 

“You did! Jumping Jehoshaphat I Maybe 
you’re having a good time this afternoon. Oh, I 
say, even though you were knocked silly over 
Moll, I didn’t suppose your head was as soft as 
that I ” 

“ Soft as what ? If you call it soft to like a party 
that you’ve been invited to, I don’t. And if you 
don’t like it, you’d better keep still.” 

“ Beginning to grow wings. Seesaw ? ” 

“You can’t make me mad, Billy, hard as you 
try. You can’t ! You can’t I I don’t believe I’ll 

ever be cross again as long as I live, because 

Oh, Billy, I’ve got a fairy godmother I ” 

“ A what I ” 

Gleefully Helen dropped into her old chair. “I 
feel as though I belonged here, I’ve sat in it so 
long. She gave me this dress, Billy. How is my 
head now? ” 

“ The F. G. did that ? What’s wrong with it ? 
The dress, I mean. You didn’t mind ? ” turning 
to May Frink, who came panting up, a hand at 
her side. “ We did it at — where was I when we 
130 


Br EXPRESS 

ran around like that ? After finishing the games, 
you know/’ 

May Frink smiled at him. “ Mind ? — Oh, dear 
no ! — It was a cute idea — I think. — So new — to 
us up here — in the wilds.” 

That idea was pretty fresh,” Helen informed 
him half an hour later. What made you try to 
pass it off as second-hand ? ” 

Thought she’d take it better so. Now don’t 
get huffy. Seesaw. A fellow knows when he’s had 
too much girl. When did this fairy godmother 
racket pipe up ? ” Refreshments had been stowed 
away and the guests were streaming across the 
grass toward the house. Does she hand out any 
little thing you happen to want? ” 

Helen told him of the letter. And then the 
dress came. And that’s as far as we’ve got.” 

Billy’s sceptical eyes twinkled over her flushed 
face. You do take it all in, don’t you ? ” he 
teased. I say, don’t brain me. Honestly, I’d 
like an F. G. myself about now.” 

The note of sorry earnestness in the last sen- 
tence caught her ear. Don’t you think you’ll be 
able to pass them off? ” 

Pass what off? ” 

Your exams. Isn’t that what you’re working 
for? I thought ” 

Oho ! Thought I d flunked, did you ? Guess 
131 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


I can take care of my lessons a while longer if 
I get the chance. It’s only ” — there was no 
smile now in Billy’s eyes — I have a little inter- 
view with dad coming off in a day or two that I’d 
like to cut.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


IN THE HIDING-HOLE 

Flat on her back, her head to the oak beyond 
the wall, her feet to the path, Helen lay looking 
up — at the leaves and the sky ? Not a bit of it. 
At a big beautiful stooping creature with blue 
smiling eyes set rather far apart in a cooFgreen 
face. Now green is not the usual color of a lady^s 
complexion, but if you have never lain flat on 
your back under a tree and looked up, you are not 
competent to speak on the subject. Of course it 
was a face. It couldnT help being a face when 
the eyes watched you so hard. There was one to 
the left where a branch crooked to let the sky 
through ; the other was almost straight over your 
head. Looking up steadily at the softly moving 
leaves, Helen felt the lady slip an arm under her 
and begin to rock, rock, ever so gently. 

From far down the road, drawing farther away 
every minute, sounded boys^ voices. Billy was off 
for the afternoon. When she climbed the wall she 
had seen Molly and her father disappearing to- 
gether over the hill. Harold would be busy with 
his nap. There was absolutely nothing to lure 
133 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 

Helen away from the delights of the green hiding- 
hole. 

She sighed contentedly and, turning on her side, 
let her eye slip along the turf to the hedging 
bushes. When your head was low like this, how 
tall every grass-blade looked ! Suppose you were 
really only as high as your eyes came now. Sup- 
pose this short grass reached to your waist and the 
ferns grew high above your head and the bushes 
towered as tall as trees ; what a queer place the 
world would be ! As though you had been alive 
when those huge fern forests the books told about 
used to cover the earth. Straightway Helen be- 
gan to explore the green nook from this new point 
of view, a tiny adventurous Helen, climbing a fern 
frond as the real Helen would climb an apple tree, 
dodging an upstanding hoary dandelion to avoid 
bringing down a white shower on her head, brav- 
ing the dark alleys between the roots of the en- 
circling shrubs. 

And then the thought of Molly swam again into 
her ardent beauty-worshiping heart. Molly with 
the sun on her hair and her hat in her hand speed- 
ing lightly up the hill, as though the very air 
loved her. Helen moved over on her back again, 
clasped her hands under her head, smiled at the 
two blue eyes looking down from the tree, and im- 
mediately the still green space grew big with 

134 


IN THE HIDING-HOLE 


splendid deeds. Was there anybody so well fitted 
as Molly to run away with a person’s imagination ? 
Molly was Helen of Troy. Molly was the princess 
of a besieged castle. Molly was the everlasting 
Cinderella of the world. The brown dusty road 
echoed to the feet of heroes, heroes led by Helen, 
dauntless, invincible. How they fought and bled 
and died at Molly’s feet, to be revived only to do 
it all over again. Tears welled up in the girl’s 
eyes and rolled salt and silent down her cheeks as 
she viewed their glorious fates. This was better 
than being the princess yourself — oh, much better. 

Sir Knight,” said Molly, in this high tower I 
am immured by that wicked lord who has stolen my 
lands, here to stay until I wed with him, which by 
my troth as a high born damsel will I never do.” 

“ Lady,” cried Helen in armor at the tower’s 
foot, of that wedding shall you have no need. 
Keep a high heart and trust to Harry Hotspur.” 

Thereupon Hotspur, having lent his name, lent 
also his temper and at the head of his waiting men 
fell precipitately on the objectionable lord who 
with an army at his back now put in a timely ap- 
pearance. The grass was crushed under the press 
of men. The bushes reeled back from the fray. 
But still through the defile that led into the plain 
poured relay on relay of the enemy. On they 
came, swords flashing, battle-axes lifted high, a 

135 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 

wave of steel rolling on the Lady Molly^s cham- 
pions. With her name on his lips Hotspur pricked 
to meet it. The wave shivered at his onset, broke 
and ebbed. But not yet was the field won. 
Quivering with excitement, her clammy hands 
gripping the grass, Helen saw the wicked lord 
rally his forces, saw him with a dozen knights hurl 
himself on Hotspur where he rode alone. 

To me ! ” shouted the knight as he spurred to 
the encounter. Five men went down under his 
hand before he closed with the hated tyrant. 
Then was such a fight seen as even Helen had 
never achieved before. It raged with all the 
doughty detail that much history reading could 
supply, and when it ended the wicked lord was 
dead. His men carried Hotspur to the foot of the 
tower and somebody unlocked the door and let the 
princess out. 

Lady Molly stooped over Hotspur where he lay, 
and his blood crimsoned the hem of her gown. 
She took his limp hand in hers. My noble de- 
liverer ! ’’ quoth she, weeping. ‘‘ Sir Knight, was 
it for this you fought ? '' 

Lady,” said the knight, all is well since you 
are free. The word of Hotspur is redeemed.” 

Then Molly ordered somebody to “ look to his 

wounds ” and But Helen never followed her 

heroes far after what was required of them had 
136 


IN THE HIDING-HOLE 


been accomplished. Now she lay still on the 
grass under the wall, her muscles tense, her mouth 
and throat dry, her chest heaving a little after these 
strenuous mental exertions. Slowly she divested 
herself of the imaginary Hotspur. It had been a 
rather lively afternoon for a warm summer day 
and a good deal had happened in the small green 
nook under the wall. She was not sorry to lie 
quiet for a while and let the real world soak into 
her brain gradually. So often she had to put away 
her imaginings in a hurry. 

That was the beauty of this place ; it was so 
entirely your own when Billy was away. But not 
even Billy knew it all. He thought he did, but 
he didnT. Only from the top of the wall could 
you see the cut in the oak bark, unless you 
squeezed yourself in between the wall and the 
trunk, and Billy, she was sure, had not thought 
as yet to do that. 

But Helen did this minute, just to see how much 
room there really was and to run her fingers over 
the scar. While she did it she wondered for the 
fiftieth time what the circle and the triangle 
meant. Somehow she did not like to ask Cousin 
Anne. Yet how could the explanation have to do 
with the locked door ? This mark must have been 
set in the tree many years ago, while the door had 
been locked only within a twelvemonth. 

137 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Some day when Billy was off again she would 
come here and make up stories about it all. Al- 
ready she could feel them pricking in her brain. 
But the sun was too low now. Billy might be 
back at any time, and besides she had imagined 
enough to-day. Imagining things was like read- 
ing books. When you had finished one, you 
liked the next better if you waited before begin- 
ning it. And the mark on the tree, she felt in- 
stinctively, was worthy of a fresh fancy. 

No, she would make up no more stories this 
afternoon. She would go and see what Cousin 
Anne was doing. Perhaps she could read to her 
again. But first she would walk along the wall 
and see if there were any more hiding-holes as 
good as this. 

There were not. Bushes grew thick between 
the road and the wall. Here and there clematis 
and wild grape stormed the brick and clambering 
riotously over dogwood and elderberry sprawled 
victoriously across the coping. Over their twisted 
stems Helen stepped high, careful not to trip. 
After a thorough search she stopped by the oak 
and, squatting on her heels, devoured the delec- 
table nook below with complacent eyes. It was 
the one perfect and complete spot of its kind the 
whole length of the wall. 

Just how what occurred next came about, she 
138 


IN THE HIDING-HOLE 


was never afterward quite sure. She had reached 
down to give one last pat to the mark on the tree 
and she was drawing back. Perhaps she had not 
been quite so careful as usual in her manoeuvers. 
For the next minute she found herself clawing 
wildly at nothing ; one arm was going down, 
down, down, and when it stopped she seemed to be 
a kind of human vine bridging the space between 
the wall and the oak, her arm buried to the 
elbow in the heart of the tree. 

Why, iPs hollow I she gasped when her 
breath came again. 

Transferring herself wholly either to the wall 
or the oak was no easy matter, but as difficulty of 
any sort served only to spur Helen’s spirit, she was 
not long in surmounting this one. In the tree 
you could investigate. Obviously, therefore, in 
the tree she ought to be. And thither with much 
scrambling she betook all of her that was not 
there already. 

It was hollow ; at least there was a hollow in it. 
Passing seasons had choked the opening and green 
twigs had hung a screen before it. But when ac- 
cident had discovered it to you, you could only 
wonder why you had not found it before. 

Gingerly at first, more and more fearlessly, 
Helen’s fingers felt about inside the oak. What a 
perfect post-office it would make ! Had somebody 

139 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


used it so once and put the mark on the trunk for 
a sign ? But how far did the space go ? To the 
ground ? Hamadryads lived in oak trees. Sup- 
pose, just suppose, whispered Helen’s whimsical 
brain, “ you should come on a hamadryad now ! ” 
‘‘ Then I’d say,” retorted Helen’s ready tongue, 
‘ Dear postmistress dryad, have you any mail for 
me ? ’ ” 

But at that very minute she jumped so hard 
she nearly fell off the branch she was sitting on. 
The hamadryad had not spoken. It was not a 
voice that startled her. It was a touch, her own 
touch on something in the tree. Groping in the 
hollow trunk, Helen’s fingers had closed on a solid 
thing that would move. Breathing short and fast, 
she gripped it in both hands and drew it out, a 
queer oblong something trailing something else 
after it at the end of what looked like half a foot 
of fuzzy gray string. 

And then she saw the something was a box, a 
tin box, but so encrusted and eaten with rust as to 
be almost unrecognizable. It thumped and rattled 
a little when she shook it gently, giving out three 
or four different tones of rattle. The string was 
mouldy catgut tied around the box and holding 
to it a small flat leather case, heavily coated in its 
turn with mould. 

Helen dusted her fingers on a leaf and picked at 
140 



SHE GRIPPED IT IN BOTH HANDS 


i 


f / 


I 


I 









« 


f 




: 

. ^ 


« 


» 


« 


4 


V 




A ““ 



I 














* c. 


t 


N fc 



» • • 


« 


I 





♦ 


« 


« 


f 


► ' • 


» 


f 








I 


» 


* 


• ^ 




» 


•« 










V 


r 





» 






•A. 


• I 



I 



I 



4 .»* 


♦i 


' • 

I 


rl 




< 


i 


» 




4 


4 


4 • 











% 


-<• 


'•<n ^ 


* 


t y 

Lik. 


-v.' 


« 


«# 


o 


? 


, « 

. ^ 

?% ♦ '.•%!■•■• 




IN THE HIDING-HOLE 


the knot. So the tree had been used as a post-office 1 
Was this a part of its mail, forgotten and never 
delivered? Bu why? What could have hap- 
pened long ago to halt traffic so suddenly ? Long 
ago? These things looked as though they had 
been here forever. She opened the leather case. 
Within lay a packet wrapped in fold on fold of 
oil silk. With trembling fingers Helen slipped 
aside the coverings. A sealed envelope lay fiap 
upward in her lap. She held her breath a minute 
before she turned it over. 

“To be opened, together with the attached box, 
by the first person who finds them after the year 
nineteen-thirty.^^ 

Twice Helen read the words before she quite un- 
derstood. “ Nineteen-thirty 1 Nineteen-thirty ! 
she cried. “ That is years and years and years 

away. I’ll be grown up and old and Why, 

maybe I’ll be dead by nineteen-thirty ! Maybe by 
then I won’t care about looking in the box. 
Maybe I’ll even have forgotten all about there 
being a letter and a box.” She stared unhappily 
at the round faded letters of the superscription. 
“ Why couldn’t it have said nineteen-ten? ” She 
even twisted the envelope about and squinted at it 
through half-shut eyes in a vain attempt to turn 
the three into a one. Stubbornly the date re- 
mained nineteen-thirty. 

141 


HELEN OFER-THE-WALL 


Then temptation came to Helen. Temptation 
sat on the branch beside her and whispered in her 
ear. Nobody would ever know,” said tempta- 
tion. “ Whoever put these things here must have 
gone away long ago and forgotten all about them. 
It^s no harm to peek, if you leave everything just 
as you find it. And how do you know somebody 
hasn^t peeked before ? ” 

I don't believe that,” said Helen. But do 
you really think I might ? ” 

Of course,” temptation said stoutly. What’s 
the harm ? ” 

It says nineteen-thirty,” Helen demurred. 

Oh, if you don’t care to look ! ” said tempta- 
tion. If you don’t want to know what is in the 
box and what the letter says and who put them 
here and why they’ve been hidden so long and 

why it says nineteen-thirty on that envelope ” 

Helen slipped the slender point of an oak leaf 
under the flap of the envelope at the upper left- 
hand corner where the mucilage had stopped. I 
wish I had Billy’s knife,” she thought. 

Take it up to the house and steam it open over 
the teakettle,” said temptation. “ Or tear it now. 
You can write another envelope, you know, that 
will look old enough by nineteen-thirty.” 

Helen’s little finger followed the point of the 
oak leaf. For two full minutes she sat staring 
142 


IN THE HIDING-HOLE 


at the letter in her lap. Then her finger slipped 
out from under the flap. I can't/’ she told temp- 
tation. Maybe nobody else would know, but I'd 
know. And I'd despise myself all the rest of my 
life if I did it. This isn't nineteen-thirty and 
nothing can make it so, and whoever put these 
here said to wait till then." 

Sadly she rewrapped the envelope in its delicate 
covers and returned it to the leather case. Ex- 
actly as it had been tied before she retied it with 
the mouldy catgut. After that she felt carefully 
to make sure there was nothing more of an excit- 
ing nature in the hollow space within the oak and 
put back the letter and the box together with the 
leaves that had hidden their resting place from 
roving eyes. When she had satisfied herself that 
nobody would find the hollow in the oak unless 
he tumbled into it as she had done, Helen went 
up through the gardens to the house. 

As she went she smiled to herself She could 
never have imagined, she thought, even if she 
imagined every day through the whole summer, 
anything so surprising about the marked tree as 
what she had really found there. But it would 
be mean to peek," she reassured herself in the lily 
garden. Besides, if I did that, I'd know. And 

now Why, now I've got more than forty 

hundred guesses. I can make believe something 

143 


HELEN OFER-THE-WALL 


new every day, and it will always be right, just 
as right as the maybe I’ve made up last. Only if 
I don’t ever know anything at all about it 

really ” She halted in front of this new and 

disagreeable idea. How shall I ever stand that I ” 
A lily unfolding by the gate nodded at her and 
Helen nodded back happily. Why, of course ! ” 
she said. When I can’t endure not knowing any 
longer, I can ask the fairy godmother.” 


144 


CHAPTER IX 


AN OLD ATTIC 

The attic at Red Top ” was a very enthralling 
place. The minute you opened the door it seemed 
to take you by the hand and draw you in and say, 

Come and play with me.’’ There you were in 
the midst of all that you had ever dreamed an 
attic ought to be. Two great chimneys ran up 
through the roof, and backing against the chimneys 
were tall cases of drawers and deep-bodied chests. 
Trunks, big and little and middle-sized, of every 
date and pattern, from queer little round calfskin 
great-grandmother trunks to big lumbering Sara- 
togas, skulked under the eaves. Hulks shrouded in 
sacking shouldered each other at one end. 

Beautiful furniture it is, too,” Mrs. Higgins had 
told Helen, “ as you can see very well if you lift 
the covers. All rosewood and mahogany. But 
where can the poor lady put it, with the house full 
already?” 

At the other end a cavernous sofa, minus a leg 
and shedding its vitals through rents in its green 
sprigged cloth, held out inviting arms. A rocking 
horse bereft of a tail leaned against it in a way that 
145 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


betokened other losses. From the rafters depended 
skates, snow-shoes, strings of dried corn, and sundry 
many-colored bags, some of them as capacious as 
that of the Swiss Family Robinson. Many little 
square windows gazed out into the tree tops, win- 
dows that were delicately curtained with spiders’ 
webs. The spiders’ webs gave the attic just the 
right air of age and disuse and long accumulation, 
though Helen knew very well that the webs them- 
selves had not curtained them long. Beside one 
of the windows a big wing-chair, still gay in faded 
turkey red, fairly shouted for a girl and a book 
and a rosy cheeked apple and rain pattering on the 
roof. 

The rain was pattering on the roof now, but the 
apples were not ripe, and Helen had combined the 
book and the chair more than once. To-day she 
wanted something different. Speculatively she 
loitered about the attic. What should she do? 
She had read to Cousin Anne all the morning and 
now Cousin Anne was taking a nap. 

Do anything you like this afternoon, my dear, 
with anybody you like, wherever you like,” Cousin 
Anne had said. Fm sorry it rains so much, 
though rain makes the corn grow. Do you think 
you can manage somehow ? ” 

Helen had declared she could manage beauti- 
fully, but how should she make good her words ? 

146 


AN OLD ATTIC 


She would have liked to climb up on top of the 
wall and sit down facing the oak tree and wonder 
and wonder who put it there and why the box 
wasn’t to be opened till nineteen-thirty. But 
even as the thought came she realized that, after 
all, she would not care very much for that to-day. 
She was temporarily, just temporarily, tired of won- 
dering. Besides, she had to be careful not to scru- 
tinize the oak too openly. Billy might notice some- 
thing. And Helen did not wish Billy to notice 
anything. Besides again, it was raining. 

What should she do ? There was plenty of ex- 
citement lurking all around her in the trunks 
and chests, but to-day she did not feel like getting 
at it alone. 

I wish Phillis were here,” she remarked to a 
particularly knobby white bag, “ Phillis and the 
twins. Of course Phillis is older than I am and 
^he thinks she must be dreadfully dignified, but I 
don’t believe that you ever grow so old or so dig- 
nified that you don’t love to dress up.” 

At that an idea jumped into Helen’s head. It 
set her eyes sparkling and her cheeks fiushing. 

“ Would she come ? ” she debated with herself. 

Cousin Anne said I could have anybody, and you 
can’t pick berries in a rain like this, at least I 
shouldn’t think you could. But how shall I find 
out?” 


147 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Apparently there was only one way to find out, 
and that way Helen took with brief delay. She 
could act with great swiftness when she had once 
made up her mind, and falling rain held no terrors 
for her. It was rather fun in rain coat and rubbers, 
on her head a cast-off but still fresh-looking straw 
sailor she found on a peg in the back kitchen, to 
splash through the puddles, along the garden 
paths, over the wall, and up the hill, meeting lit- 
tle rivulets of water running down. Little rivu- 
lets of water ran down Helen, too. They dripped 
oflP the brim of her hat and coursed down her 
coat sleeves and she laughed for joy and took 
a couple of skipping steps that sent small foun- 
tains of mud jetting over her boots. Why, why 
didnT people go walking in the rain without um- 
brellas? She laughed again and lifted her face 
blithely to the touch of the raindrops. 

A gesture of Sarah Stuart’s arm made in the 
berry field days ago furnished vague directions, but 
she found the house. 

Sarah Stuart herself opened the door. 

“ Oh, I’m so glad you’re home,” said Helen. I 
thought you couldn’t be picking berries in the rain, 
and you’re not trying to raise mushrooms either, 
are you ? Because if you’re not busy, I do so want 
you to come home right now and dress up with 
me in the attic.” 


148 


AN OLD ATTIC 


I^d like to very much/^ said Sarah Stuart. 

But, if you don't mind, where is ‘ home ' ? " 

Helen blushed. That’s just like me,” she 
lamented. I always blunder right into the mid- 
dle of things.” Briefly she explained. And 
Cousin Anne is asleep, at least I hope she’s asleep, 
but the attic is gorgeous — you love attics, don’t 
you? — only it needs somebody besides me this 
afternoon. I mean, I seem to rattle around in it 
like one pea in a whole big pod. You’d better 
bring an extra pair of shoes, my feet are soaking 
now. There are the most bee-yeautiful clothes to 
dress up in. I’ve been longing for somebody to do 
it with me.” 

Together the girls splashed down the road which 
Helen had splashed up alone. Helen’s tongue 
wagged as fast as though it had been two tongues. 
Sarah Stuart put in a quiet word now and then, 
but her eyes smiled. 

“ Don’t you get tired of working all the time ? ” 
Helen queried. I should. I could work five 
days, but six — I wonder whether I shall have to 
work six when I get to earning my college course.” 

I don’t mind,” said Sarah Stuart. The truth 
is I guess I don’t think much about it. I just do 
it, that’s all. But it is fun to have a holiday. A 
half holiday,” she corrected herself. ‘‘ I picked 
nearly all the morning.” 

149 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


In the rain ? 

‘‘ It didn’t begin to rain until nine o’clock, and 
the ripe berries would have rotted if they’d been 
left on the vines.” 

As they came in sight of Gray Shingles ” Helen 
had another idea. She eyed Sarah inquiringly. 

You aren’t in college yet, so I don’t know that 
you can tell, but do you suppose a college senior 
would care to do such a thing as dress up? ” 

I had a notion they liked to do it very much,” 
said Sarah Stuart. “ If you mean, would Miss 
Holbrook care to come with us, I’m inclined to 
think she would.” 

You know her ? ” 

She’s been in the berry field.” 

Isn’t she lovely ? ” 

Inside and out.” 

We’ll ask her,” said Helen. There’s a white 
brocade trimmed with gold that I know never had 
anybody so pretty as Molly inside it.” 

When Molly said yes, Billy said yes, too, a con- 
tingency Helen had not counted on. 

“ But I didn’t ask you,” she objected. 

I’ll overlook that little omission,” said Billy. 

There’s nothing to do over here, and I’ll bet I can 
find something worth looking at up in your attic 
— no white thingummies, either.” 

So the little procession of three girls and a boy 
150 


AN OLD ATTIC 


trailed through the gardens and up the stairs to the 
treasure house of the attic. And there ensued 
such an orgy as none of them had ever in all their 
different lives participated in before. The very 
good reason was that none of them had ever before 
had such an attic to carry on an orgy in. Even 
Helen, who had investigated some of them, had no 
idea the trunks and chests and bureau drawers 
held so much faded glory. 

There were gowns that Molly declared must 
have been worn when Cousin Anne was a girl, 
gowns with draped skirts and funny little tails to 
the waists, trimmed with rows and rows and rows 
of black velvet ribbon in varying widths. 

^^^1 shouldnT have cared to be the dressmaker 
who sewed them on,’^ said Molly. 

There were gowns with close-fitting straight 
waists and voluminous gathered skirts, gowns with 
tiny baby waists and scant straight skirts, gowns 
with pleats and ruffles and overskirts and flounces, 
gowns of velvet and satin and muslin and silk and 
stuffs that the girls lacked names for. There were 
cloaks and mantles, capes and dolmans. 

“ What in the world are these things ? ” Helen 
demanded. 

Hoop-skirts ! said Molly promptly. 

And here are hats — bonnets, I mean,’’ an- 
nounced Sarah Stuart. 

151 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Molly reached across Helenas shoulders. Then 
she made a dive in Sarah’s direction for a poke 
bonnet that looked as though a whole flower 
garden had been shaken over it. Swiftly she 
insinuated her slim skirts into the hoops. Over her 
head she slipped a pink silk patterned in hair-line 
stripes. The wide flounces ballooned gloriously 
above the hoops. Deftly she tied the strings of 
the poke under her chin, thrust her arms into a 
many-seamed peacock blue satin jacket, too tight 
across the chest, and drew a pair of yellowed mitts 
over her hands. 

Can’t I put on that cerise bow somewhere ? 
The flaunting thing under your hand, Helen. 
And a shawl. I must have a shawl. That’s it, 
Sarah. The white fringed silk with the embroid- 
ered roses.” 

The next minute she revolved before a couple of 
laughing girls. 

Did anybody want to see a bit of color? ” she 
inquired. 

They laughed the more. 

“ I think these were made to be worn by a girl 
with red hair, don’t you ? ” pursued Molly. 

“ It’s a gay rig,” said Sarah Stuart. 

'' Think of a church full of these pokes on a 
June Sunday,” said Molly, '' every poke accom- 
panied by its big flat bouquet of spice pinks strung 
152 


AN OLD ATTIC 


on thread. Didn’t you know our grandmothers 
always carried spice pinks to church ? ” 

'' I wish we did,” cried Helen. How perfectly 
dear of them ! But, Molly, what made you know 
how to get into it — the hoop-skirt, I mean ? ” 

College,” said Molly. ‘‘ There are a good many 
things you learn in college which aren’t entered in 
the catalogue. I was in a hoop-skirt play last 
year. ” 

But here Billy stalked into view, Billy whom 
the girls had quite forgotten, but who had been 
busy at his own devices in another quarter of the 
attic. 

Helen gave a little jump when she saw him. 

Oh I ” she gasped. And then, a minute later. 

Why, it’s Billy ! ” 

'' Of course,” said Billy. “ Who’d you think I 
was ? ” 

'' I don’t know,” said Helen. A picture in a 
book, I guess, come alive.” 

“ One of the old Dickens illustrations,” Molly 
declared promptly. '' Billy, you’re a dream.” 

'' Sure thing,” said Billy cheerfully, surveying 
his odd length. 

For Billy was clad in a long and skin-tight pair 
of trousers of a pale and languorous yellow hue ; a 
resplendently flowered silk waistcoat covered his 
manly chest ; a long-tailed blue cutaway coat of 

153 


HELEN OFER-THE-WALL 


quaint pattern was thrust back to allow his hands 
access to his trouser pockets ; his chin was perched 
on a collar that flared on either side like white 
wings ; while the ends of a green silk tie stood out 
rakishly below it. On his head perched a very 
tall, very slim, very round stovepipe hat. 

“ Turn around,^’ ordered Molly, when she could 
speak. 

Grinning, Billy revolved. 

“ You’re a fop,” said his sister. A macaroni. 
Only macaronies were before your period, I think. 
A dandy of — 1850 ? Somewhere about then.” 

“ I’m a guy,” said Billy, that’s what I am. 
Would you think a follow’d even go to the barn 
in this outfit ? ” 

He’d strut up Broadway in the fifties and think 
he was the whole town,” Molly corrected him, 

if Broadway was the street for dandies to strut 
on when those clothes were worn. Oh, I wish 
your attic was somewhere near college, Helen ! It 
would be a mine to the Dramatic Club.” 

Sarah Stuart’s voice interrupted them, an eager, 
breathless note running through its usually cool 
tones. 

“ Oh, girls ! Look here.” 

Sarah held a drab-colored cloak in her hands, 
very heavy, very serviceable, very old. 

It was wrapped in tissue-paper,” she said, 

154 


AN OLD ATTIC 


with a white linen bag around that. And there's 
a paper sewed onto the bag." 

“ This cloak was worn by Agatha Allen," Helen 
read, bending over the yellow letters, on her 
wedding journey which she took by pillion from 
Boston. She was the first white woman to come 
into the Beaver Valley." 

<< Why, Agatha Allen was my great-great-great- 
grandmother ! " Helen exclaimed. 

She was a strong woman," said Sarah Stuart. 

It was she who drove off the Indians when they at- 
tacked the Allen cabin once, with her husband away." 

How'd she do it ? " Billy inquired. 

Sarah looked at Helen. You tell the story." 

But I don't know it myself." 

The Indians crept up in the middle of the 
afternoon. It was all wilderness about here then, 
miles and miles of forest with clearings around the 
few cabins, and the cabins none too near each 
other. Somehow the Indians knew, or thought 
they knew, that Mr. Allen was away. They were 
a scalping party, she could tell it by their paint. 
And she opened fire. She was alone with the chil- 
dren. Timothy was the oldest — ten. He took one 
side of the cabin and she the other. Nancy and 
Robert loaded the guns for them. Mary quieted 
the little children. Agatha Allen could shoot like 
a man, better than some men. The Indians 

155 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


thought they had been mistaken and drew off. 
When a bigger band came, Mr. Allen was at home, 
and so was his brother. After that the Allens 
built a stockade and all the families near took 
refuge within it in time of need.^’ 

Good for Agatha Allen ! was Billy’s comment. 

Say, Seesaw, can you shoot? ” 

Helen had thrown over her shoulders the old 
cloak and now stood, fingering it proudly. She 
enjoyed having an ancestor like Agatha Allen. 

“ No,” she said regretfully. I wish I could.” 

“ If I could find a ^ bow ’n’ arrer ’ and a few 
feathers we’d have a scrap, if you could shoot,” 
Billy proclaimed. “ Suppose there are any of Pa 
Allen’s things about ? ” 

“ Were you thinking of reproducing the trip 
from Boston ? ” Molly asked. 

“You wouldn’t waste that hobby-horse, would 
you ? ” returned her brother. 

Sarah Stuart chuckled. “ I guess it would be 
as hard to ride that hobby-horse as to come pillion 
all the way from Boston,” she said. 

Helen broke in on the talk. Truth to tell, she 
had not heard the last few sentences. 

“ Why don’t we dress up and act out things 
that really happened before Cousin Anne ? She’s 
having a stupid time, and I know she’d laugh and 
laugh to see Billy, and ” 


156 


AN OLD ATTIC 

Oh, I say I ’’ Billy retreated rapidly toward 
his improvised dressing room. 

Molly and Sarah Stuart looked at each other. 

Do you think, when Miss Bates is so ill 

began Molly. 

I’ll go ask the nurse,” said Helen. To-day 
hasn’t been one of her bad days,” she flung back 
from the stairwa3^ 

The nurse asked Cousin Anne, who had waked 
from her nap and was now resting on a couch in 
her sitting-room. Cousin Anne professed herself 
delighted at the prospect, and even went so far as 
to tell Helen where Billy would And his bow ’n’ 
arrer,” and Helen the flintlock she would need 
to complete her costume as Agatha Allen. 

Then there was excitement in the attic. More 
rummaging ensued, heated debate on parts and 
costumes, cues and action. Laden with ‘‘ proper- 
ties,” the four descended the attic stairs. Billy 
was turned loose to choose his own dressing room ; 
the girls swarmed into Helen’s room, showering 
bed and chairs with a rainbow mass of bonnets, 
gowns, and mantles. 

Somewhat later into Cousin Anne’s sitting-room 
marched Agatha Allen in Puritan garb, her cloak 
about her shoulders, her flintlock in her hand. 
Intrepidly she gazed on what she informed the 
spectator was primeval forest ” ; fearlessly under 

157 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


her shading hand, she scanned the borders of her 
little clearing, “ for signs of ravenous beast or 
wilder man/^ 

All’s peace,” quoth Agatha Allen. I will 
now hie me to my wheel and spin, that when the 
goodman of my house returns he may find cause 
wherefore to praise his wife.” 

With this she retired behind a table and began 
issuing commands to Timothy,” “ Robert,” 

Nancy,” and Mary.” 

A fearsome object was the Indian. His war 
bonnet bristled with feathers, his tomahawk — 
suspiciously like the meat cleaver — whirled dread- 
fully about his head. He came skulking through 
the furniture, bow in hand. By snaky detours 
he neared the table. With a blood-curdling 
yell he rose to his feet. He rushed forward. 
“ Crack ! ” spoke Agatha Allen’s flintlock. The 
chief dropped to his stomach, wriggled back 
to within cover of a chair and discharged a flight 
of pasteboard arrows against the table. 

To your post Timothy ! ” cried the intrepid 
mother. 

Bang ! ” said Timothy’s musket. The voice 
was oddly like that of his mother’s weapon. The 
two proceeded in duet, briskly. 

Grunting, the Indian withdrew. Whereupon, 
wrapped in a great cavalry cloak, her hair under 
158 


AN OLD ATTIC 


her collar and a steeple-crowned hat on her head, 
Sarah Stuart entered, an axe in one hand, a 
musket in the other. 

“ I come from reclaiming the forest,^^ she pro- 
claimed. My home still stands.^’ 

‘‘Thanks to your brave wife, Agatha Allen,'^ 
said that lady modestly, appearing from behind 
the table. “ While you were far away, the wily 
red man fell upon us, but I repulsed him.’^ 

“ Noble woman ! breathed the happy husband, 
opening his arms. 

Ping I Ping ! A couple of pasteboard arrows 
whipped against the ancient cloak and the cavalry 
cape. 

“ Dead, both of you,’^ said Billyhs cheerful voice. 
“ It doesn^t do to be spoony outdoors when red 
men are about.’^ 

“ ThaPs not fair/’ cried Helen. “ If anybody’s 
dead, you’re dead.” 

“ Dead ? I’m coming for your scalps now.” 

“ You won’t get mine. It doesn’t end that way 
at all.” 

“ Run along, Billy, and get into a white man’s 
skin,” Molly commanded. “ You’re a little late 
in the day to improve on colonial history.” 

At that Helen laughed, and the tiny lines, that 
had come so near puckering her forehead, 
smoothed themselves out. 

159 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


The next company that swept into Cousin 
Anne’s sitting-room was a very elegant group, no 
less personages than the girls who long ago at- 
tended the governor’s ball. Molly with high 
powdered hair, gowned in the white and gold 
brocade, was as lovely a sight as Helen had pic- 
tured her. 

But don’t stay long,” she besought as they 
tripped down-stairs. The thing is so tight I 
can’t breathe.” 

Sarah Stuart wore garnet velvet, and Helen was 
deliciously happy in a pink satin that was as 
small for her as the brocade was for Molly, but 
whose tightness she endured without a murmur 
for love of the pink satin slippers that matched it. 
With much waving of great fans they curtsied and 
paraded and plumed themselves, until at last 
Molly began, without any music, but with every 
movement full of grace and meaning, to dance the 
minuet. 

After that Billy and Molly did a scene from 
Dickens together, improvising where they forgot 
what the characters really said. And then the 
girls bloomed into hoop-skirts that gave them no 
end of trouble to manage but looked very quaint 
and old-fashioned, as they undeniably were. There 
was a major’s uniform in the attic, but Billy 
absolutely refused to put it on, telling Molly he 
i6o 


AN OLD ATTIC 


had made a big enough guy of himself already. 
But the girls went on and on through gown after 
gown, the fun running higher and higher, until 
suddenly Sarah Stuart declared it must be time for 
her to go home. 

Cousin Anne would not hear of anybody's going 
home. Tea was waiting down-stairs, she said, for 
four. She had already sent word to Gray 
Shingles.” After supper Jim and Helen would 
drive Sarah home. And she hoped they would all 
come again soon. 

‘‘ It-s been the nicest rainy day I ever knew,” 
Helen told Cousin Anne contentedly when she 
kissed her good-night. IsnT Molly the love- 
liest?” 

Just that,” said Cousin Anne. I like Billy, 
too. And Sarah Stuart is a fine girl.” 

I wish all girls were as nice as Molly and 
Sarah,” sighed Helen. 

It takes all kinds to make a world, my dear.” 

Yes. I suppose it does. But what kind of a 
world would it be if they were all nice kinds ? ” 

I never had the chance to find out,” said 
Cousin Anne, though I incline to imagine it 
might be rather tame. And remember some peo- 
ple probably like the kinds that you and I donT.” 

Ye-es, maybe they do,” Helen assented. But 
I donT see how they can, do you?” 

i6i 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


No/^ said Cousin Anne. It’s very myste- 
rious.” 

They both laughed at that. 

It isn’t nice to compare people,” Helen told 
herself as she brushed her hair that night. And 
I did have a good time at the party. But how 
much better a time everybody would have had if 
the Frinks were like Molly and Sarah Stuart. 
And Molly isn’t a bit like Sarah, either.” 

Her thoughts, traveling back to the party, paused 
on a chance recollection. 

I wonder what Billy meant about his father. 
Molly said something the first day I saw her, too. 
Doesn’t Mr. Holbrook know that he’s flunked ? ” 


CHAPTER X 


CROSSPATCH AGAIN 

Molly, deftly whirling a fat little string mop 
in one hand, with the thumb and forefinger of 
the other adroitly snatched plates from a steam- 
ing pan of suds, while Helen wiped them and 
Billy sat on the chest by the door and jeered. 

It being Molly's birthday, she ought not by 
rights to have had any woes, but somehow or other 
Helen could not shake off a feeling that Gray 
Shingles " was under a shadow deeper than any 
cast by the apple trees. Perhaps it was all her 
imagination, but nothing seemed quite as usual in- 
side the little house. Between jeers Billy whistled 
the particularly I-don't-care kind of whistle Floyd 
employed, when he wanted to impress somebody 
with an idea of how happy he was. Genial Mr. 
Holbrook, generally as full of jokes as a porcupine 
is full of quills, had shut himself into his study. 
And fascinating Mrs. Holbrook had hidden her 
quaint brownie-like little person up-stairs with 
Harold, who was suffering from an attack on the 
163 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


cooky jar conducted surreptitiously yesterday after- 
noon. 

That was it, of course. The baby was sick, and 
the picnic planned to celebrate the day had had to 
be given up. But if it were not for Harold and if 
they were not all so polite about it, Helen would 
have thought the whole family had managed to 
get out on the wrong side of the bed that morning. 
As it was, in spite of the lure of pretty hands 
whisking in and out of white suds Helen almost 
wished she had climbed back over the wall after 
delivering the armful of long stemmed pink roses 
which she had cut herself, picking out the very 
prettiest and thinking that after all they werenT 
half so pretty as Molly. You see she judged the 
Holbrook family by herself, and she had been in- 
clined to blame Harold severely for the failure of 
the picnic. 

Molly, Father Holbrook abruptly appeared in 
the kitchen door, what do you say to joining an 
exploring party of two ? 

I’d say yes,” answered Molly promptly, “ but 
how about Harold ? ” 

Asleep, and mother says we might as well take 
to the woods.” 

Run along, Moll.” Billy slid off the chest. 

Seesaw and I can finish the dishes.” 

Yes, indeed.” Helen swallowed a lump in her 
164 


CROSSPATCH AGAIN 


throat. Not for worlds would she by look or ac- 
cent have hinted for an invitation, but certainly 
this turn of events was not what she had ex- 
pected. 

I’ll wipe,” said Billy, laying hands on Helen’s 
cloth. 

Molly yielded the dish mop. Helen twirled it 
briskly and dived after a plate as she had seen 
Molly do. 

Ouch ! Ouch ! It’s hot.” 

“ I say, let up on that ! What do you mean 
by slopping those clean dishes ? Just to make me 
work?” 

It goes over so easy,” she apologized, eyeing 
the dripping plates in dismay. 

Thought you hated washing dishes,” teased 
Billy, when the mop began gingerly to move again. 

Helen concentrated her attention on the swirl- 
ing suds. How fast could she move her mop and 
still avoid flooding the table ? 

“ Didn’t you tell me something like that ? ” he 
persisted. 

They were at the pantry dishes now. She lifted 
a big buttery yellow bowl and lowered it cautiously 
toward the pan. Almost at the water line it 
slipped and plumped out of her hands with a 
splash that raised broadsides of suds. 

Bunnywhickets I ” Billy landed in two leaps 
165 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


at the porch door and began frantically to wipe 
his face. “ Why didn’t you tell a fellow it was 
coming ? Doing dishes with you is as bad as get- 
ting into one of those joke gardens they have in 
Europe where a chap can’t stir without turning a 
bath on himself.” 

“ Oh, Billy, I didn’t mean to I ” 

I’ll bet there isn’t a dry dish on that table,” 
Billy proceeded. '' Here, you just take a cloth and 
help wipe ’em over.” 

Penitently she obeyed. 

Pass the word when you’re ready to let go 
next time,” he ordered, so I can get outdoors.” 

“ I’ll never touch another dish,” she wailed. 

You finish them, Billy.” 

Not on your life.” He backed abruptly. 

Don’t be a quitter. Seesaw. Up and at ’em I 
Pike’s Peak or bust I Maybe we’ll keep on all 
day, but it’s worth seein’. Catch me believing 
a girl again ! She hated washing dishes, did 
she?” 

A person can change her mind,” Helen re- 
joined with dignity. 

Don’t be too sure,” warned Billy darkly. 

Anyhow, I’ve changed mine.” 

You’ve changed your mind. My eye, but 
that’s good. Seesaw ! Moll’s done it for you, you 
mean.” 


i66 


CROSSPATCH AGAIN 


The Frinks donT like washing dishes/’ shut- 
ting her teeth on a hot retort. 

“ And between being in the Frinks’ company 
and Moll’s, you’ll take Moll’s ? So will I every 
time. Just the same you’re a Mollycoddle, Miss 
Over-the-Wall. And a Mollycoddle is a fellow or 
a girl or anybody who likes a thing or thinks he 
likes it just because Moll does.” 

I’m not ! ” cried Helen. I don’t either I 
I ” 

“ Go it ! ” grinned Billy. Get in all over. 
Say, but you’re red I It takes Moll to turn ’em 
upside down and make over their little opinions 
for ’em, so it does. Without stirring out of her 
tracks, too.” 

Deliberately Helen wrung out her dish mop, 
emptied the soapy water in the sink, and rinsed 
mop and pan in clear, as she had seen Molly do. 
Calmly she put away the dish-pan and hung the 
mop on its nail. Serenely she washed her hands. 

During these operations Mrs. Holbrook came 
into the kitchen, smiled at her, and went into the 
pantry to beat up a birthday cake. 

Billy pranced after his mother, returning with 
a little pan which he set on the stove. You and 
I’ll frost Molly’s cake,” he announced cheerfully. 

“ I’m going home,” said Crosspatch. 

“ Oh, come now, don’t be a mucker. We’ll do 
167 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


‘ Molly ^ in pink frosting, with little candles around 
the edge and all the other flummyjubbles we can 
think of/^ 

‘‘ Sorry.” Helen wiped her hands. 

‘‘ But who’ll play with me if you go home? ” 

She pretended not to see the really beseeching 
little grimace of Billy’s eyes and climbed reso- 
lutely over the wall. 

Undeniably the day was turning out very badly 
indeed. The picnic had fallen through and now 
she had quarreled with Billy, just because he had 
said she hadn’t any mind of her own. And why had 
Molly done this to her ? Because Molly was pretty. 

Oh, dear I ” said Helen aloud. It must be 
terribly nice to be pretty ! ” 

Disconsolately she sat down on the rustic seat 
and an idea, a mere seed of an idea that had 
dropped into her mind three days ago when she 
showed Molly the gardens, finding everything now 
right for growing, sprang up quicker than Jonah’s 
gourd and shaded her. In its gloom she forgot 
that she had a fairy godmother ; she forgot that 
she was never going to be cross any more. Just 
because she had gone so very high she now went 
very low. 

The idea said, You don’t belong at ^ Red Top ’ 
at all. You’re an interloper. Like the ogre, you 
don’t fit.” 


CROSSPATCH AGAIN 


The more Helen listened to it, the more she be- 
lieved the idea. Hadn’t she the evidence of her 

own senses ? Phillis fitted and Molly How 

well Molly fitted ! The mere sight of her stand- 
ing in the gardens was so right. 

Suddenly she thought of a way to put the idea 
to the test. All the ecstatic dream-like happiness 
of the past week might have to crumble, but if it 
did nothing would ever deceive her again. Any- 
way, she would know. 

Slowly she pulled herself off the rustic seat and 
dragged leaden feet along the paths and into the 
house. Out of the closet came the fairy god- 
mother’s gift and out of her gingham gown wrig- 
gled Crosspatch. Standing well away from the 
long mirror, with careful fingers she worked at the 
buttons, slowly, very slowly. When she had fast- 
ened enough for the experiment she took a step 
forward and swung together the closet door. 

For a long disillusioning heart-sick minute the 
girl in the room stared at the girl in the mirror. 
The magic was gone I •* 

You are ! ” she cried. I knew it, but I 
hadn’t dared see. You thought, stupid, if you 
wore a pretty dress you’d be pretty too I But 
you’re just as homely as ever.” 

It was Crosspatch who explained to Cousin Anne 
half an hour later, with a wrinkle in her forehead 
169 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


and more than a suspicion of a flounce in her 
voice, that the baby was sick and the picnic had 
been given up. “ But why ? she kept demand- 
ing in a tempery undercurrent to the very dull 
book that Cousin Anne insisted on hearing. 
“ Why am I plain, and Phillis pretty, and Molly 
more than pretty ? Why ? Why ? Why ? 

And then the answer came — if you can call it 
an answer — as it always did with a suddenness 
that made her jump, as though she had spoken out 
loud instead of only thinking thoughts in her 
very own secretest soul where nobody could get at 
them except a fairy godmother. That very noon 
the postman brought another envelope addressed 
in those fine queer stumpy letters. 

“ Why did you think that was a picture of me?^’ 
the letter began. Did you really suppose I 
looked like that? Perhaps it is the way I’d like 
to look or the way I think I ought to look to fit 
the part, but didn’t I tell you distinctly it was just 
a kind of trade-mark, a guarantee that the goods 
are of genuine fairy make? Any little winged 
thing would do as well for a symbol. 

“ A face — what’s in a face ? Smoothness ? 
Beauty of line and tint ? Well and good, but you 
can’t live on color three hundred and sixty-five 
days in the year. How many bites will you 
170 


CROSSPATCH AGAIN 


promise to take in the rosiest-cheeked apple whose 
flesh is bitter to your taste? But if it is sweet, 
crisp and juicy and tanging to your palate, as 

pretty eating as it is pretty looking Aha, 

what then, do you say ? Why, I answer, then it's 
like a child with a horde of fairies summoned to 
her christening, and haven’t we discussed that 
point before ? 

“ Offhand, you wouldn’t call a wrinkle pretty, 
would you ? But the next time on the street you 
pass that man with the three tiny crinkles at the 
corners of his eyes, watch him smile. Don’t you 
wish you knew him ? 

“ As for me, I like something to fight against. 
Give me a face, any kind of a face — fat, thin, 
squat, long — with the right kind of stuffing behind 
it, and I’ll guarantee to storm the world. Yes, I’ll 
use it to launch a thousand ships, but they won’t 
be Dreadnaughts. They will have rainbow sails, 
some of them, and go skipping and dipping away 
into Nobody-Knows- Where ; and some of them 
will be busy little tugs that can tow big battered 
ocean liners into port ; and some of them will be 
barges gliding heavy freighted, or ferry-boats chug- 
chugging steadily right about home and loaded to 
the water’s edge with the workaday world, but 
they will all fairly bulge with usefulness and hap- 
piness — and not a destroyer among them. 

171 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Do you know what your inside face looks like? 
Don’t jump I Didn’t know you had an inside 
face? Why, everybody has one. It’s the face 
that counts, because you make it yourself. It’s not 
the way you wish you looked, though that helps. 
It’s the way you really would look if you could 
turn yourself inside out. And it is everlastingly 
getting mixed up with your outside face. 

There are a few people, the very fewest of few 
people, almost few enough for you to number them 
on your fingers and toes, who look alike outside 
and in. But most people aren’t made that way, 
any more than most people’s fiesh and blood faces 
look alike on both sides. Haven’t you ever no- 
ticed the difference? Their hair grows curlier on 
the left than on the right, or an eyebrow slants 
askew, or their ears aren’t well matched, and it’s 
only by the bridge of the nose you can tell some 
of them. 

Yes, of course I’ve got an inside face. Per- 
haps you see it clearer than any of the fairy folk 
about me, because they only look at me while I 
write to you. And in every letter I’m painting 
my really truly picture. So don’t get mixed up 
by any lines and colors that happened to come in 
the package I sent you, and oh, please don’t wish 
to mix me all up about yourself Don’t you know 
that the one you’ve got is the only face for you — 
172 


CROSSPATCH AGAIN 


outside? Imagine prancing around the world 
looking through a pair of misfit brown eyes ! If 
I met you in Timbuctoo with your hair matched 
to yellow snarled silk, how would I know you 
were you ? 

For it’s you I love, little girl, with your honest 
blue eyes and your odd clever little nose and your 
dear fanciful chin, you with your demure smooth 
brown hair and your straight white forehead. 
Only clear away the wrinkle, quick ! I’m afraid 
I shouldn’t know how to love you half so well 
pranked out in curls and a Greek profile. 

So pfease be careful what you wish for, because 


and — 


Sometimes wishes come true 
Though they bring only rue 

Am I not your 

“ Fairy Godmother?” 


With the letter clutched tight in her hand, Helen 
dashed for the mirror in the parlor. Her nose I 
She could not remember the time when her nose 
had not served as a family joke, to be trotted out 
and put through its paces on all occasions. Mother 
and Phillis and Floyd and the twins loved her in 
spite of it, because they were her family, but no- 
body had ever dreamed before of saying it was 
pleasant to look at that funny little ridge of skin 

173 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


and bone and muscle. It had always been some- 
thing to live down and now Squinting at the 

offending structure, she put up two fingers and 
rubbed out the wrinkles. Maybe her nose wasn’t 
so dreadfully bad ; maybe she had begun to live it 
down already ; maybe even it was something to 
live up to instead. Anyway, the fairy godmother 
liked it. Her feet began to prance. 

It wasn’t her picture I ” she cried, dancing into 
Cousin Anne’s room. 

Whose picture ? ” inquired Cousin Anne, relax- 
ing her contemplation of half a dozen photographs 
strewn over the bed. 

What a stunning girl I ” 

As a matter of fact she is nothing of the sort, 
but she takes a good picture. So every year or two 
she floats a dozen counterfeits and gives me my 
choice. Would you keep the one in evening dress 
or the tennis girl ? ” 

Helen inspected the pictures carefully. I’d 
take the one on horseback. But, honestly, doesn’t 
she look like that? ” 

You would never recognize her in the world, 
my dear, if you met her on the street. She is al- 
most ugly in every-day wear. But what picture 
isn’t whose? ” 

“ The fairy godmother’s. I’ve had a letter 

Would I be interrupting if I read you a bit of it ? ” 

174 


CROSSPATCH AGAIN 


Just think ! she finished abruptly. ‘‘ A face 
within a face I It sounds like a hypocrite or an 
old Roman god, or a masquerade party, when it^s 
just you and me and everybody.’^ 

“ Humph ! said Cousin Anne. Rather un- 
canny, isn’t it? So she thinks that the fact that 
my eyes happen to be cat green doesn’t make any 
difference with my inside face, but what I see with 
my cat green eyes does make a difference. Only 
she doesn’t say how, unless in the part you 
omitted to read.” 

Helen flushed a bright brick color. I — I read 
what I thought you’d be specially interested in. 
But she’s never the least bit preachy. Don’t you 
love that place about the thousand ships ? I don’t 
know what it means exactly, but it makes me burn 
all over to read it.” 

“ She leaves a good deal to your imagination, I 
notice. How do you suppose one makes an inside 
face?” 

Helen cupped her chin in two brown hands and 
thought. Maybe it’s like embroidery,” she ven- 
tured at last shyly. 

Embroidery ? ” mused Cousin Anne. Yes, a 
stitch at a time.” 

“ Only your silks are deeds and thoughts, and 

your needle What would your needle be. 

Cousin Anne ? ” 


175 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Your will ? 

And when you’re cross and the needle gets 
bent and the silk snarls, it puckers your inside 
face, just the way a mouthful of sorrel screws up 
your easy-to-see face, and it smuts your nose, and 
draws two deep black lines right down through the 
middle of your forehead.” 

That happens sometimes to an outside face,” 
objected Cousin Anne. 

Oh, dear ! Then perhaps fussing about your 
skin kind of looks spoils the other, too. She said 
they were awfully mixed up together. Cousin 
Anne, do you like embroidery ? ” 

“ Other people’s, when it is well done — very 
much.” 

Helen laughed. “ Phil does yards and loves it. 
I try once in a while something little and quick 
that won’t outlast my patience or get too messy 
before I’m through. Phil is pretty inside and 
out.” 

‘‘ With exactly the same kind of prettiness,” 
agreed Cousin Anne, “ durable and satisfactory.” 

Molly is lovely both ways, too, I think,” said 
Helen loyally, but her faces don’t look a bit the 
same.” 

“ She is as unexpected inside as she is faultless 
outside. How many fairies came to her christen- 
i;ng, I wonder ? ” 


176 


CROSSPATCH AGAIN 


Oh, I hope not many ! You know it^s risky 
to have too many, Cousin Anne.” 

Thinking about Molly, late that afternoon Helen 
wandered down through the gardens to the closed 
gate. Perhaps Molly would be home again by 
now. Anyway she would go back to Gra}^ Shin- 
gles ” and make up her quarrel with Billy and 
look at the birthday cake and see how the baby 
was feeling. 

Of late when she went over the wall, as she did 
seven to seventeen times a day, she seldom gave 
an active thought to why the door was shut. The 
fairy godmother had been in no hurry to follow 
up her first lead. And now the tree’s secret was 
always lying in wait for fancy, making her dream 
and wonder. If only she could think of it as a 
secret likely to pop out at who knew what fasci- 
nating moment of the godmother’s own fairy time ! 
In point of fact, that was the way she generally 
did think of it. But here, she reminded herself, 
you never knew what to expect, and if you expected 
a thing something else generally happened. After 
all, it was this spice of uncertainty that flavored 
“ Red Top ” so exactly to Helen’s taste. 

Hello,” said Billy’s voice from somewhere 
above her head. 

The girl jumped violently and blinked up at 
him. As she looked fear smote her. 

177 


HELEN OVER-rUE-WALL 


“ What are you doing up there? 

Come on up and see.’’ 

But she was already on the wall. “ You 
never ” she began, and stopped aghast. 

Billy, absorbed in certain articles before him, 
was deaf to the signs of displeasure in his compan- 
ion’s voice. 

If this isn’t the funniest go I ” he ejaculated. 

I’ll bet you never saw anything like this. See- 
saw.” 

You opened it ! ” she cried. You — you 
opened it I ” 

She felt as though the earth were yawning at 
her feet. Billy had rifled the box. There was no 
blinding her eyes to its rusty contour open on 
Billy’s knee and the neatly wrapped packages and 
small fancy boxes spilling out of it. 

Huh ! ” he snapped at her. So you’ve seen 
this before. You’re a nice pal, you are ! ” At her 
silence he looked up. Hello I What’s the mat- 
ter now ? ” 

Helen disdained reply. Her eyes were flxed 
on a little book in Billy’s hand. Its cover was 
of red leather plentifully buckled and strapped. 
This was no common book. Billy’s fingers busy 
at the fastenings incensed her. 

Give it to me ! ” she commanded. 

“ Huh I ” Billy grunted. 

178 


CROSSPATCH AGAIN 


She took a swift step forward. 

“ No, you don’t ! ” He held the little red book 
at arm’s length beyond her reach. “ Keep off, 
can’t you ? Or I’ll drop the stuff.” 

“ Billy Holbrook,” she said slowly and distinctly, 

you’re the meanest boy I ever saw in my life — 
the very meanest.” 

Billy grinned. ^‘Oho, she’s mad. This tree’s 
as free as the road. I’m not poaching on any pre- 
serves of yours, Seesaw.” 

To peek at a thing that isn’t meant for you — 

when it isn’t time — when it says right out ” 

Anger choked her, but her eyes remained fascina- 
tedly riveted on the open box. 

You didn’t put ’em here ! ” 

Of course not.” 

^‘Then what on earth are you talking about? ” 

“ I s’pose you’ve read the letter, too.” It 
must be confessed tears were very near Helen’s 
lids. 

‘^Letter! Letter! What letter? Your top- 
knot’s got a kink in it.” 

She leaned over and abstracted the leather 
case from the crotch of a limb. It remained in- 
tact, as she had left it. 

“ Ho, that 1 Is that a letter ? ” 

Helen nodded, swallowing chokily over the 
lump that seemed to fill her whole throat. But 
179 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


I didn’t open it. I left it just as it said till nine- 
teen-thirty. And you Oh, Billy ! ” 

“ Oh, Billy ! ” he mimicked. '' Nineteen-thirty. 
Where does nineteen-thirty come in ? ” 

Word for word she repeated the superscription 
of the letter. 

And you’re telling me you found all this and 
didn’t open up ? ” 

Not a single tiny peek.” 

Billy threw back his head and shouted. No 
wonder you’re mad. Well, come on now and we’ll 
do it together. I haven’t gone far.” 

“ But ” said Helen. 

“ But ” gibed Billy. 

“ It says nineteen-thirty.” 

Rot ! ” 

I found it first and I ought to have the say 
about it.” 

“ You didn’t stake your claim or enter it on the 
records. Possession’s nine points of the law.” 

I wouldn’t take ’em if it wasn’t fair.” 

“ Then you’d be a ninny.” 

Well, I’d be a ninny then.” 

You couldn’t be any more of a ninny than 
you are.” 

She scorned this thrust. Are you going to put 
back that book ? ” 

No, I’m not.” 

i8o 


CROSSPATCH AGAIN 


He slipped the last clasp and, still holding the 
little red book at arm’s length, opened it with a 
thumb and forefinger. Helen could see that its 
pages were covered with writing. * 

“ Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! ” she said. If disgust and an- 
ger and scorn could paralyze, Billy would have 
been helpless before her. As it was, he continued 
to hold her off with one hand while with the 
other he turned page after page, and chuckled and 
grinned as though what he found were amusing 
him vastly. Helen hadn’t a notion that the grins 
were put on for her benefit and that Billy really 
wasn’t reading a word. Powerless and outraged, 
she turned on her heel and descended the step- 
ladder. 

So long as she was in sight Billy continued to 
turn the leaves of the little red book and give 
way at intervals to gusty joy. When the last 
scornful bob of her skirt had been gone at least 
five minutes, he shut the book, rebuckled its 
clasps, and stowed it away with the other things, 
still unopened, in the metal box, and returned the 
box to the tree. But first he had to see for him- 
self the handwriting on the letter and reinforce the 
box cover with a couple of rubber bands from his 
pocket. Those hinges were no good, he reflected. 

Half an hour later with his mind as com- 
pletely divested of the squabble as his conscience 

i8i 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 

was clear of intentional offense, he went in search 
of Helen. He found her curled up unhappily on 
a seat in the rose garden, meditating on the de- 
pravity of boys in general and of Billy in partic- 
ular. But this he did not know. A rose flew 
through the air, hit her in the face and dropped to 
her lap. She shook it off her skirt and it fell to 
the grass, where her foot swung over it. 

“ Come along over the wall and talk to a chap.^^ 

She regarded him coldly. No, thank you. I 
don’t care to talk just now.” 

Billy’s face fell. “ Don’t be huffy. Seesaw, on 
a fellow’s last night.” 

“ I’m not huffy. I’m just ” — she searched for a 
word and produced it triumphantly — grieved.” 

Silence in the rose garden. 

“What do you mean by your last night?” 

“ What I say.” 

If Helen had looked at him she might have seen 
that something was wrong. If she had not been 
so angry when she found him with the precious 
secret-box open in his hands, she might have 
seen it then. Now she did not even glance at him. 
Billy was exasperating, not at all the boy she had 
thought him, and she had no wish to be burdened 
with his company. 

“Oh, are you going away?” she asked per- 
functorily. 


182 


CROSSPATCH AGAIN 


Yep.” 

Rather sudden, isn’t it? ” 

What did he suppose his going away mattered 
to her? she was thinking. ‘‘Red Top” would 
be much nicer without meddlesome boys about. 
But it was queer nothing of this sort had been 
mentioned in the morning. 

“ Lots you care, don’t you ? ” said Billy. 

Helen continued to pick at the rose in the grass. 
“ Perhaps,” she said frankly, “ when I get over be- 
ing mad at you, I shall miss you. Just now I 
honestly don’t care.” 

“Mad? Oh, you mean over that stuff in the 
tree.” 

“ Don’t talk about it. You’ll make it worse. 
Why did you come over here anyway ? ” 

“ A fellow likes to have somebody say good-bye 
to him,” Billy grumbled, digging the toe of his 
boot into the turf. 

“ Stop that ! ” commanded Helen. “ You’ll 
spoil the grass. Wasn’t your family enough to 
say good-bye to ? ” It was not polite, but she did 
not feel polite. 

Billy swung on his heel. “ I’m not giving ’em 
the chance.” 

It was a minute before his words made any im- 
pression on her brain. 

“ What did you say ? ” 

183 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


He was striding down the garden path. 

Billy I 

No answer. 

She slipped off the seat and ran after him, over- 
taking him half-way through the last garden. 

What did you say, Billy ? 

I said I wasn’t giving ’em the chance to say 
good-bye to me.” 

You mean — you mean — I don’t know what 
you mean.” 

Pop-eyes ! ” 

Helen’s brow cleared. You exasperating boy ! ” 
she told him. “ You’re not going anywhere. Do 
3^0 suppose you can keep on jollying me forever 
without taking the trouble to think up new 
ways? ” 

‘^All right. Call it a jolly if you like. Just 
the same, I’ve quit.” 

He swung himself over the wall. Swiftly she 
ran up the step-ladder and dropped beside him 
into the green cubby-hole. 

Billy Holbrook, what on earth are you talking 
about ? ” 

‘^Just what I said. I’m going to paddle my 
own canoe, since I can’t seem to suit dad pad- 
dling one of his.” 

“ Don’t — don’t the others know ? ” 

“ If you open your eyes so wide. Seesaw, the 
184 


CROSSPATCH AGAIN 


hinges may crack. Know that I’m going ofif? 
Hardly. But they know all about that fuss at 
school. Oh, yes, they know I’m expelled.” 

Helen’s heart felt as though a hand had clutched 
it and were squeezing tight. She forgot about 
Billy’s meanness. She remembered only that 
she had been cross this morning and bothering 
about not being pretty, when Billy and Molly and 
the rest of the Holbrooks were in real trouble. 


185 


CHAPTER XI 


BILLY SPEAKS OUT 

“ Expelled ! Oh, Billy I ” 

It amounts to that. If I don’t take back what 
I said, which of course I won’t do — no fellow 
would — I’m fired.” 

Round and round like a squirrel in its cage, the 
word whirled through Helen’s head. “ And I 
thought you had just flunked your lessons ! ” she 
cried at last. 

Because I had some books around ? I was 
going to work like a dog this summer. Had a 
notion I could study up and get into college a year 
earlier, and I’ll bet I could, too, but dad says no 
short cuts. I finish school or — I don’t go to col- 
lege. Never dreamed he’d take it so hard. 
Thought we were having a nice little tug of war, 
Simeon and I. Simeon’s the principal, you know. 
And if father hadn’t stepped in and helped him 
pull. I’ll bet it would have been a toss-up between 
us. He banked on my giving in, I know that. 
Maybe he banked on dad, too.” The boy’s face 
was gloomy as he turned it on the girl. “ Wish 
me luck, won’t you? ” 


BILLT SPEAKS OUT 


Wish you Oh, you didn't mean it, Billy I 

You’re — not — going — to — run — away ! ” 

Run ? Of course not. I’m going to walk at 
any old gait I happen to fancy and swing on to a 

train and Don’t be a crawfish, Seesaw. I 

thought you had sand, or I’d never have let out a 
word. A fellow likes to say good-bye to somebody 

when he’s leaving home for good But climb 

back over your wall. Scuttle now ! ” He was on 
his feet. 

Helen snatched the idea that happened to come 
uppermost in her topsyturvy mind. “ But it’s 
Molly’s birthday ! ” 

Tell me something I don’t know.” 

You’re not going to do it to-night.” 

‘‘ Why not ? It wouldn’t be any worse than 
blowing on myself to father yesterday. Why a fel- 
low with the sense of a jackass couldn’t have seen 
he’d better lie low two days more ! But I’d kept 
putting it off and putting it off until Moll said 
if I waited much longer Simeon’s letter would get 
in ahead of me. So I upped and did it.’’ 

Was it very bad ? ” 

Ever stumble into a hornets’ nest? I did once 
when I was a kid and they wrapped me up in cot- 
ton wool for days afterward. Yesterday I did it 
again. But let me tell you I’ll take the black 
stingerees every time rather than the sort that 
187 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


come out of dad^s mouth when he’s discovered that 
you’re stuffed with sawdust and your head’s a hole. 
No, I can’t do a thing to Moll’s birthday after yes- 
terday. It’s done.” 

Helen stared at him helplessly bewildered. Sit 
down again this minute, and tell me what it is 
you’re talking about. I have got sand, Billy. I 
have. No matter how bad it is, I can bear it.” 

Oh, come now,” he expostulated, dropping to 
the grass, you’d think I’d stolen the spoons out 
of the mess hall or cribbed an exam or cut for a 
week, at the very least.” 

Billy,” said Helen plaintively, won’t you 
please stop talking about what you’ve done and 
talk it — straight ? ” 

I got mad one day and sassed a fellow.” 

A long drawn breath slowly released whistled 
through Helen’s teeth. “ Is that all, Billy ? I 
thought maybe you had half killed somebody.” 

Not so ugly, is it? That’s the way I feel.” 

But what made you do it? ” 

Mad,” repeated Billy laconically. 

<<Why?” 

Oh, I’ve never liked the fellow. No bad blood 
between us exactly, but we don’t hit it off well to- 
gether — haven’t since a bunch of us new boys en- 
countered at commons. He’d brought up his auto- 
mobubble and thought he owned the campus. Big 

i88 


BILLT SPEAKS OUT 


talk ! You couldn^t tell him anything. I was 
green enough, but even I knew he was blowing a 
little too loud. I guess he got all that was coming 
to him. So did I, for that matter.’^ 

Now you^re hedging,” she said severely. If 
youYe going to tell me anything at all, Billy Hol- 
brook, tell me what made you mad.” 

Billy selected a grass blade with care, Saw 
him turn off a mean trick, one of those little things 
that’s just in his line.” 

“ To you ? ” 

No — to a fellow who couldn’t hit back. Babs 
knew he couldn’t, too. Mad sizzled around inside 
me for about two weeks and then I met him one 
day and let out what I thought of him. Nothing 
sugar-coated, you understand — straight talk. He 
gagged on it and offered to knock me down. I 
blocked that move by doing it to him first.” 

And somebody saw you ” 

Everybody saw me. I hadn’t chosen my time 
or place well — too public, you know, and I got 
hauled up. What did I mean by assaulting a 
classmate on the open green ? Simeon had us 
both going, for a while, but in the end he con- 
centrated on me. I must apologize or quit.” 

'' Then didn’t that other boy do anything at all ? ” 
He played the heavy magnanimous. He’s not 
asking for an apology, not he, and won’t the 
189 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 

powers let up a bit ? But not one word does he 
say about begging Foley’s pardon — the fellow he’d 
walked all over, you know, and as straight a chap 
as there is in school. Some of the boys were for 
going to the office and blurting out the whole 
business, but I stopped ’em. A fellow can’t have 
that kind of thing.” 

And couldn’t your old principal see through 
that boy at all ? ” 

‘‘ Generally he’s pretty keen, but he didn’t see 
farther than the end of his nose into this. Be- 
sides, his blood was up, and when he’s ^ sot ’ a 
mule isn’t any ^ setter.’ 

“ ^ Apologize,’ says he, ‘ before the fall term opens 
or cut out your senior year.’ 

“ ^ Apologies be blowed,’ says I, or words to that 
effect. ‘ When T. B. gets one from W. H. you’ll 
catch a dead weasel awake.’ 

So there we are.” 

Then you’ve got all summer ” 

Billy turned on her. 

“ Look me in the eye. Seesaw, and say that it’s 
up to me to eat my words, if you dare.” 

“ Well, I do,” said Helen. I think that horrid 
boy ought to apologize more. But couldn’t you 
just say you were sorry you knocked him down ? ” 

“ Which I’m not. What I’d like more than 
anything else I can think of is to do it again.” 

190 


BILLY SPEAKS OUT 


“ Oil, dear I Helen clasped her hands around 
her knees and rocked back and forth. Oh, dear, 
I suppose this is that pig-headed old temper you 
said you'd got. Maybe it’s wicked, but I can’t 
help being glad you knocked him down, though I 
don’t know what it was he’d done to the other 
boy. Only I thought when people did that they 
always jumped up and shook hands afterward.” 

“I’ll shake hands with Babbie just as quick as 
he goes down on his knees to Jim Foley. That’s 
what I told father.” 

“ And he said ” 

“ Said from what I’d told him he judged Babs’s 
course should be as I’d mapped out in my remark, 
but that was his business and it wasn’t mine to 
knock Babs down, especially at such long range 
from the provocation ! Oh, dad piled on the dic- 
tionary. And he’d stand by to see me fired be- 
cause while in school I was under the orders of 
the principal. Brawling on the front campus was 
conduct unbecoming ^ an officer and a gentleman.’ 
No wonder the fellow fired up at getting my broad- 
side ; he’d have been mad if he’d been Babs. And 
how did I know all the things I said ? Granted I 
did know them — dad allows me so much — I’d 
much better have kept still. All of which is 
righter than right. But when he says if I’ll apol- 
ogize he’ll stand by to see Babs do likewise I just 
191 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


remind him he’s passed his word not to put Simeon 
wise to the Foley business. So there you are 
again. And he won’t set me up at any other 
school, either.” 

What does your sister say ? ” 

“ Moll sides with father. She would, you know. 
They’re great pals.” 

Silence fell between the two while Helen con- 
sidered Billy’s disjointed story. You’re so queer, 
Billy,” she said at last. Sometimes when you 
talk I think you really feel as though it was what 
you call the square thing to apologize ” 

Not square. Seesaw. Triangular. With the 
hypotenuse broadside to yours truly.” 

Right, then, if you don’t like square. Honest 
Injun, don’t you think you owe that boy some- 
thing?” 

“ Sure,” said Billy pleasantly. “ But no more 
than he owes Foley. I’ll apologize just as soon as 
Babbie does, and not one minute sooner, as I’ve 
told you before.” 

“ But somebody’s got to begin.” 

He can do that.” 

' After you, Alphonse,’ ” Helen quoted. Don’t 
you remember the picture? Neither old dandy 
would go through the gate before the other and in 
the end they turned around and trotted off home the 
sam6 ways they had come. It’s perfectly ridiculous.” 

192 





r. ? 7 


AND NOW YOU ARE TALKING OF RUNNING AWAY 



I 


BILLT SPEAKS OUT 

Billy scowled. “ It's no good talking," he said. 

‘‘ But when you know you ought." 

“ I'm taking a vacation from oughts." 

He watched her tightly closed lips for a full 
minute. What are you doing now ? " 

Counting ten." 

Why?" 

‘‘ Because, Billy Holbrook, you can be absolutely 
the horridest boy I ever saw. Here you're giving 
that Babbie creature the satisfaction of seeing you 
turned out of school and making your family mis- 
erable just to coddle your old pride. Oh, you 
stupid ! What do you care about that boy ? You'd 
say something in a minute if it was anybody else. 
You'd find a way to do it without telling lies or 
taking back anything you didn't want to take 
back. And now you're talking of running away 
from home ! Running away I Just because your 
father doesn't hold a club over the principal's head 
and make him eat his own words or let you pick 
out a new school to suit yourself. If I were you 
I'd want to hide my face for even thinking of such 
a thing ! " 

Look here. Miss Over-the-Wall ! " Billy sat up. 

Maybe you think I'm just peeved, but I'm not. 
I'll tell you another thing. I'm going to work my 
way through college. By the time your two years 
are up I can give you points on the working man's 
J93 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


career that will turn your hair pink. But I’ll 
make good. And when I’ve done it I’ll come back 
and say, ‘^Well, dad, it turned out not so bad 
after all, though I didn’t give in.’ And he’ll say, 
‘ Not so worse, son.’ But while I’m working up to 
that little speech, how am I going to live on father ? 
Tell me that. Don’Vyou see if I don’t give in I’ve 
got to go away — or cut out college? Whatever 
you think, I don’t call it square to let father pay 
the bills while I scheme to get my own way, live 
on him all summer and work to pass college exams 
in the fall.” 

Helen’s next remark took the wind out of his 
ballooning sails. 

Has your mothet ever been sick, Billy ? ” she 
asked. 

Why no, not much, I guess. Never when I’ve 
been home. Why ? ” 

Because things somehow look differently when 
your mother’s sick. The house is so awfully 
queer and you’d do anything, just anything to 
make her well, and you think of all the things 
you’ve ever done that she didn’t like, and they 
gnaw you nights, Billy.” 

A big tear slipped over one eyelid and dripped 
down her cheek. 

Billy slid a hand into his pocket and tossed a 
handkerchief across the intervening green. Oh, 
194 


BILLT SPEAKS OUT 


come now ! ’’ he expostulated. “ Your mother^s 
getting better. Didn’t you tell me so yourself yes- 
terday ? ” 

That doesn’t make it any comfortabler for me 
to have been cross and bothered her so. I squizzle 
all up inside, when I remember how nasty I was.” 

My mother isn’t sick.” 

But she wouldn’t know wnere you were nights, 
Billy. She wouldn’t know where you were any of 
the time. Why, one day a year ago last fall Floyd 
went olF with some boys into the woods. They 
were to be back by supper time and not later than 
nine o’clock anyway. But it got to be ten and 
eleven and twelve and they didn’t come, and no- 
body in town knew anything about them. The 
twins slept right through till morning, and mother 
and Phillis thought maybe I would, but I didn’t. 
Mother was sure Floyd had fallen down something 
and broken his leg or somebody had shot him by 
mistake for a partridge, but why didn’t they come 
and tell her ? And Phillis tried to talk as if every- 
thing was all right and maybe the boys were 
spending the night at a farmhouse, finding they’d 
got away pretty far from home. ^ Couldn’t they 
telephone ? ’ mother said. 

And after that we didn’t do anything but wait. 
I snoozed off once in a while but mother and 
Phillis didn’t sleep a wink, though we all went to 

195 


HELEN OFER-THE-JVALL 


bed. Do you know how queer and hobgobblinish 
a night looks right in the very middle when it^s 
black as pitch or just a little gray at the edges and 
your very own onliest brother is you-don’t-know 
where? Do you know now how it sounds, all 
squeaky and stealthy and just ready to pop out on 
you some dreadful scary secret that you^re afraid 
to hear, and you want to cover up your head in the 
bedclothes to keep it off, but you dassent because 
that might be a step on the walk ? 

Floyd came back all right, didn’t he ? ” asked 
Billy gruffly. 

He came home at six in the morning on his 
two feet, whistling. The boys had found a shack 
in the woods and somebody had proposed spend- 
ing the night there, they were going to be so late 
getting home. And he’d thought mother would 
know he was somewhere with the fellows and it 
would be all right. Floyd never stayed away an- 
other night without telling her where he was. 
Why, last May when the ball team missed the last 
train that stops at our station he telephoned twice 
to make sure she understood. But the morning 
when she didn’t get up and the doctor looked so 
sober as he came down-stairs, Floyd thought about 
that time in October, I know he did. I was re- 
membering every single thing I’d ever done to 
worry her, myself.” 


196 


BILLT SPEAKS OUT 


“ You’re a good sort, Seesaw,” said Billy. “ But 
this affair of mine is different from Floyd’s, night 
out.” 

She’s got your father — your mother has, I 
mean — and Floyd was all the man of the house 
we had. That’s different. But what do you 
suppose she’d have done if Floyd hadn’t come 
back?” 

It’s a matter of principle with me,” he argued, 
“ and a girl can’t be expected to understand prin- 
ciple. You’re not logical.” 

Helen turned on him. I should hope not, 
Billy Holbrook ! I should hope we weren’t log- 
ical if logical means not caring how much you 
hurt the people that love you the best. Don’t you 
suppose I’d go down on my knees and scrub floors 
for the rest of my life if it would smooth out of 
mother’s face just one of the wrinkles that I’ve 
helped to put there ? And here you stick at four 
little easy words, ^ I beg your pardon.’ A great big 
boy like you ! ” 

We won’t flght about it,” said Billy, springing 
to his feet. “ And — of course you’ll not give me 
away.” 

Slowly Helen shook out her skirts. Silently she 
laid hands on the step-ladder. 

'' Look here. Seesaw ! If you let out a word of 
this to a soul I’ll cut instanter, so fast you won’t 
197 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


see a thing but the dust behind me. Now, what 
do you say ? 

I say you’re a bullying old clubwhacker and I 
never dreamed you could act so — never ! ” 

Anything else ? ” 

And that if I’m not logical and haven’t any 
principles, I don’t see how you could expect me to 
keep a promise if I made one.” 

‘‘ Go on,” inexorably. 

And that — and that You didn’t mean 

it.” 

I certainly didn’t mean anything else.” 

Oh, dear ! You know you’ve got me, Billy.” 

Then you’ll keep dark ? ” 

‘‘ Ye-es.” 

Honor bright ? ” 

‘‘ Honor— bright.” 

In the warm-scented darkness Helen lay awake 
a long time worrying about Billy and wondering 
whether she had done wrong to promise not to tell. 
But how could she have helped it ? For nothing 
was surer than that Billy would have carried out 
his threat on the minute had she refused to give 
her word. And tattletales were such hateful 
creatures. Yet in spite of the best she could do 
for herself her poor little heart squirmed and 
twisted. Perhaps it was selfish of Billy to make 
her an unwilling partner in his plans, but deeper 
198 


BILLY SPEAKS OUT 


than resentment pricked the fear that he might 
really run away. He had sounded so dead in 
earnest and, worst sign of all, his eyes had looked 
so sober as he talked, not once glimmering imp- 
ishly, but stern and still and almost coal black 
under the smudge of his brows. If only he hadn't 
the queer kink in his brain that told him there 
was nothing else to do. Or if only his bulldog 
temper would let go its strangle hold. Where was 
he now ? Getting his things together for a start. 
Trudging along a dark country road. Sweet as a 
flower Molly's face flitted across the curtain of her 
closed eyelids. Molly's laugh caressed her ears. 
Molly's gay pretty practical ways tugged at her 
memory. After Molly's flashed Mrs. Holbrook's 
face as it had looked when she smiled that morn- 
ing in the kitchen, dear and funny and tired and 
a little pale from her night's vigil with Harold. 

And then her own mother's loomed out of the 
darkness, warm and loving as the touch of the 
flesh and blood hand that her little daughter had 
so often nestled to. A big choking sob caught at 
Helen's throat. Turning, she buried her face in 
the pillow. Dear God," she sobbed, “ don't let 
Billy run away ! Oh, don't let Billy run away ! " 

“ Cousin Anne, how can you make people do 
what is good for them ? " The words, abruptly 
199 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


setting a period to a morning with French chateaux, 
met no faintest flicker of surprise on the couch. 

“ That is a question which has baffled philos- 
ophers, my dear, and the answer is — you canT.” 

Oh I ” The sound died in a discouraged little 
breath. 

Was there somebody you particularly wanted 
to try it on ? 

Billy.’^ 

Cousin Anne considered for some time. I 
haven't seen much of Billy," she said at last, but 
judging from what you tell me, if I were very anx- 
ious to have Billy not do a thing, I'd be rather 
careful about over urging him to refrain. Indeed, 
I think I'd possibly seem a little bit in favor of 
what I didn't want." 

Leaning forward with clasped hands, the girl 
studied the suggestion. I shouldn't wonder if 
there was a whole lot in that," she conceded. “ But, 
oh. Cousin Anne, I wish I could see my mother ! " 

I wish you could, my dear." 

The world seems so dreadfully puzzling some- 
times." The words came with a rush. Do you 
ever feel as though you'd got to make things come 
out right — you couldn't let them go wrong, and 
yet you're scared pink lest they should and you 
can't do a thing to help it ? Why, Cousin Anne, 
sometimes I feel as though I were a little puppy 
200 


BILLT SPEAKS OUT 


and a big dog had me by the throat and was — -just 
— shaking — me.” 

Cousin Anne nodded. I know what you 
mean. But he lets go after a while. And then 
sometimes the puppy finds he has a new friend.” 

But the shaking^s no fun,” said Helen. 

I quite agree with you. What do you say to 
that bowl of roses ? Stale, aren^t they ? Suppose 
we have something fresh.” 

A wide fiat basket on her arm, and the shears in 
her hand, Helen loitered through the gardens. 
She did not intend to loiter, but dread kept pulling 
at her shoes and distracting her mind from a de- 
cision between peonies and roses and, if roses, what 
kind and color. She wished she had courage to 
make an errand to Gray Shingles.” But she was 
afraid to meet Billy and more afraid lest she 
shouldn't meet him. Imagination teased and 
cajoled and bullied her toward the wall, but 
coward feet refused to budge further than the rose 
garden. 

Look here ! That's no way to cut roses ! ” 

Oh, Billy ! ” 

Billy for sure,” he mimicked, pouncing on the 
scissors she had dropped. Still on the planet, 
you see. Miss Over-the-Wall. Here's some fiummy 
diddle — can't remember its name — that Moll's 
made for Cousin Sci's dinner. Wait till I land it 


201 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


with Mrs. Higgins and then 1^11 show you a thing 
or two.’’ 

Compounded of steel springs and a grin, Billy 
pranced back to the roses and whipped out his 
knife. Jo’d give you one for slashing off buds 
the way you were doing,” he informed her. But 
you needn’t look as though you’d hauled a sinner 
on to the golden cobblestones. When I get good 
and ready I’ll cut just the same and not a minute 
before. See?” 

Snip went Helen’s scissors and a golden-hearted 
rose fell into the basket. “ Get me that high pink 
one, please, Billy,” she said calmly. 

Billy cut it. “ Dad heard from Simeon last 
night,” he volunteered. I wasn’t much too soon 
with my little spiel. That man’s a dabster at set- 
ting things out. I’d sure have mistaken Babs for 
a whitewashed innocent, if I hadn’t been wise to 
a thing or two he doesn’t know.” 

“ Pity about the principal,” said Helen. 
‘‘Where’s that boy you call Babs this summer? ” 

“ Skating over the map of Europe in his auto- 
mobile. There’s just one thing I’ll set down to 
Babs’s credit. He knows how to run a car like a 
bird.” Billy chuckled suddenly. “ And he thinks 
he knows how to name a cat.” 

“ Name a cat ! What a queer thing to say ! ” 

“ Fact. About the only time I ever was in his 
202 


BILLT SPEAKS OUT 


room, two years ago, too, and he was feeling slick 
and so was I — want that slap-up white fellow, See- 
saw ? All right — he had a galumping big picture 
of one stuck up over his desk. Only picture in 
the room. That’s why I noticed it. ' Hello/ says 
I. ‘ Who’s your friend ? ’ ' Mr. Dooley,’ says he. 

‘ Belongs to my sister. Named him myself.’ 
Queer how such a little thing sticks like a burr to 
a chap’s memory when a hundred history dates 
slide off. What’s the matter ? ” 

“ Mr. Dooley I ” she caught her breath. Was 
that all ? ” 

Well, no, not quite. But I’ve just remembered 
I can’t tell you the rest.” 

And the boy’s name ” 

I didn’t mention it.” 

His name,” said Helen distinctly, “ is Ted Bab- 
bitt.” 

Billy wheeled on her. How’d you know ! ” 
She clapped her hands. Because I’m a witch, 
a witch, a witch I ” 

You’ve been pumping Moll.” 

Pumping Molly ! Didn’t I give you my word 
I wouldn’t say a thing about what you’d told me, 
Billy Holbrook ! And if you think I go around 
squirming myself into people’s secrets that they 

don’t want me to know ” 

“ How did you find out, then?” 

203 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 

** You told me yourself.’^ 

I — never ! 

Now, Billy, be careful ! I didn’t know for 
sure ; I only guessed until you swallowed his name 
the way a dog snaps at a cooky.” 

You’ve got me. Seesaw. But I say, if I’d 

dreamed you knew the chap ” 

“ I don’t,” laughed Helen, watching the bewil- 
derment deepen in his face. ‘‘ I never saw Ted 
Babbitt in my life, but I’ll tell you another thing 
about him. He isn’t skating over the map of 
Europe. He’s down here in Fairfield, only twenty 
miles off, on the map of Vermont.” 


204 


CHAPTER XII 


A REAL GRANDMOTHER 

Do you know much about Fairfield ? Helen 
asked. 

'' My uncle lives in Fairfield/' said Sarah Stuart. 

I’ve been there.” 

'' Do you know a woman named Mrs. Howe ? ” 

“ Which Mrs. Howe ? There are three Mrs, 
Howes in Fairfield.” 

Oh, dear ! I hoped there was only one.” 

Perhaps you mean Mrs. Silas Howe.” 

Helen’s face cleared. 

That’s the name ; I couldn’t remember. But 
how did you know ? ” 

Everybody in Fairfield knows the Silas Howes. 
It’s the likeliest guess I could make.” 

“ Tell me about them.” 

I don’t know them personally. There are two 
girls and a boy. They were all in the Fairfield 
pageant last summer. One of the girls was an 
early settler and the boy was an Indian. I’ve for- 
gotten what the other girl did. I saw Mrs. Howe 
there, too.” 


205 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Is she very, very fat and are the girls very, 
very thin ? 

Sarah nodded. 

She’s the one,” said Helen. “ When I came 
through she was at the Fairfield station to meet 
her niece.” 

She told the story of Ellen and Mr. Dooley. 

Sarah Stuart laughed heartily. I shall have 
to tell my grandmother about that,” she said. 

Oh, have you a grandmother ? ” 

Sarah nodded. 

I never saw either of mine.” 

“ She lives with us.” 

It must be nice to know your own grand- 
mother.” 

It is. Come up and see mine.” 

Is she a real grandmothery grandmother?” 

You’re a queer-talking girl sometimes,” Sarah 
said. What do you mean by a real grand- 
mothery grandmother ? ” 

I mean, does she wear caps and cunning little 
white curls and knit all the time? I’ve seen 
grandmothers you couldn’t tell were that at all by 
the way they dressed.” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Sarah. She’s that kind of a 
grandmother, all right. Only she doesn’t knit 
very much. She sews instead.” 

What on ? ” 


206 


A REAL GRANDMOTHER 


Anything — everything. She makes a lot of 
bed quilts, for one thing — silk ones, you know, 
the crazy kind. Sometimes they^re log cabin pat- 
tern. People are always sending her bags of silk 
scraps. She's made half a dozen already since she 
was ninety." 

Ninety ! " gasped Helen. 

Sarah smiled. She doesn't look it," she said. 

She's quick for her years, and she reads without 
glasses and you can't tell her anything you've read 
in the newspaper that she doesn't know already, 
and ten to one she can tell you something that 
you never noticed. She's the smartest old lady 
anywhere around here." 

I thought you said she was over ninety." 

I did. If you don't believe it when you see 
her I'll show you the entry of her birth in great- 
grandfather's Bible." 

But would she like to see me? " 

She always likes to see people." 

I suppose she told you about Agatha Allen." 

Yes. Her grandmother told her. Her grand- 
mother knew Agatha Allen. She was one of 
those who took refuge in the stockade." 

Cousin Anne told me some more stories about 
Agatha Allen," Helen said absently. 

All the while she was thinking, what would it 
be like to see a woman who had actually seen a 
207 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


woman who had seen Agatha Allen ? The 
thought sent a thrill through her. It also fright- 
ened her a little. Why, Sarah Stuart’s grand- 
mother was almost a hundred years old ! A hun- 
dred years I Fancy seeing a woman who had 
lived as long as that. It would be like seeing 
Methuselah. Her own nearly fourteen years 
looked very short. 

“ I will come, Sarah,” she promised solemnly. 

Sarah received the promise with surprising 
calmness. That’s good,” she said. I’ve told 
her about you.” 

Why didn’t you tell me about her before ? ” 
Helen inquired curiously. “ If I had a grand- 
mother over ninety years old. I’d be bragging 
about her all the time to everybody I met.” 

Helen dressed for her call with as much care as 
though she were going to see the queen. 

‘‘ It wouldn’t quite do to wear my fairy god- 
mother dress, would it. Cousin Anne ? ” 

Not quite, I’m afraid.” 

No, I s’posed not. And you wouldn’t exactly 
like to go to see a person ’most a hundred years 
old in a blue [muslin that you had to wear a sash 
with because you had done something queer to its 
back. You ought not to have anything to conceal 
when you go to see that kind of a person.” 

I agree with you entirely.” 

208 


A REAL GRANDMOTHER 


And my organdie hasn^t any more spunk than 
a rabbit/' 

“ That settles its fate. Mrs. Sefton likes plenty 
of spunk." 

‘‘Is that her name? I just called her Sarah 
Stuart's grandmother." 

“ Mrs. Mehitabel Sefton," said Cousin Anne. 

“ Mehitabel ! What a queer name I But I 
like it. Wouldn't ,you know she must have been 
born a long long time ago to have such a name as 
that ? But, Cousin Anne, what shall I wear ? " 

“ Where is that pretty white linen I've seen 
sometimes ? " 

“ Up-stairs, perfectly fresh, in my closet. Is 
that what you'd wear. Cousin Anne ? " 

Cousin Anne intimated that it was. 

“ I didn't know whether it was grand enough," 
said Helen. “ She's such a tremendously remark- 
able old lady." 

“ Never overdress, my dear." 

“ But have your nails nice and your hair smooth 
and everything about you spandy clean. That's 
what mother tells us. She says it’s the little 
things that show the gentlewoman." 

“ I see she has brought you up well.'’ 

“ Oh, she has. She brought us up perfectly. 
Only sometimes we don't do the way we were 

brought up to do. Phil does mostly, but I 

209 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Cousin Annie, I do love to splurge sometimes. It 
isn’t nice, is it ? ” 

“ Not very,” said Cousin Anne. “ I sometimes 
wish it were. For instance, when I pine for a 
cherry colored suit and buy gray.” 

That’s it exactly ! ” Helen cried. The color 
you love won’t be serviceable or Phil will call it 
loud or mother will think it won’t go with any- 
thing else you have. And so you have to take 
some horrid dusty dead color — no, that’s exag- 
gerating — some mild tame make-believe color 
when you’re wanting a fine fiaunting real color. 
But I don’t want to splurge before Sarah’s grand- 
mother. I just want to dress up enough.” 

I think you’re wise to decide on the white 
linen.” 

“ Then I must go and whitewash my shoes, or 
they won’t be dry enough to wear.” 

It was an immaculate girl who a few hours 
later gravely revolved under Cousin Anne’s eyes 
and, carrying Cousin Anne’s white linen parasol, 
paraded solemnly through the gardens. She 
climbed the wall, holding her skirts away from 
contact with its probably dusty bricks. As scru- 
pulously she descended. 

Billy lay at ease in the hiding-hole. 

Where are you going all dressed up ? ” he de- 
manded. 


210 


A REAL GRANDMOTHER 


“To see a grandmother/^ said Helen. She 
paused to allow the importance of this statement 
to percolate Billyhs mind. But Billy failed to look 
upon her errand with the awe which Helen felt 
for it. 

“ Whose grandmother ? 

“ Sarah Stuart^s. Have you got one? 

“ Not on the planet.^^ 

“She^s over ninety/^ said Helen. Her voice 
whispered the momentous words. 

Billy affected fear. “ Better turn around, See- 
saw.'^ 

“ And her grandmother, who told her stories 
when she was a little girl, used to know Agatha 
Allen.” 

“ DonT believe it,” said Billy. 

“ Why not?” 

“ Too slick a story.” 

“ I don’t see why you say that.” 

“ You’re easy. Seesaw.” 

“ I guess if you were over ninety years old you’d 
know what you’d seen when you were a girl, Billy 
Holbrook I ” 

“ There you’re wrong.” 

Helen stared at him. 

“ I wouldn’t have been a girl. Miss Over-the- 
Wall.” 

She turned her back and started up the hill. 

21 1 


HELEN OVER-^THE-WALL 


“ ’Bye, Seesaw.” 

’Bye.” 

Walking carefully, to keep her shoes as dustless 
as might be on a dusty road, Helen skirted the 
berry field. Sarah waved to her, and she waited. 

I’m through for to-day,” said Sarah, hurrying 
to join Helen. ^‘Were you going to see grand- 
mother ? She’ll be glad of that. How nice you 
look ! ” 

Helen beamed. Do I ? I’m so glad. I — I 
think I’m getting a little bit scared, Sarah.” 

‘‘What of? Grandmother? Well, you are a 
queer girl.” 

“ You’d be scared maybe, if she didn’t belong to 
you.” 

“ She won’t eat you alive,” said Sarah drily. 
“ She prefers her callers well done.” 

“ Is she awfully imposing? ” 

Sarah smiled. “ Wait and see.” 

Helen smiled too when she saw Sarah’s grand- 
mother. She smiled because no one could help 
catching the contagion of her hostess’s pleasure. 
She smiled also because she remembered her own 
question. “Just the same she is imposing,” she 
told Sarah afterward. “ Only she’s so dear you 
forget about it right away.” 

The sitting-room into which they went was 
simple and worn and spotless. There was a 
212 


A REAL GRANDMOTHER 


Turkey red sofa and a table covered with books and 
magazines, and a kitten playing with a spool and 
string. Doubtless there were other things present, 
but these were all Helen noticed before she saw the 
old lady at the window. 

She was a tiny old lady and she had bright 
black eyes, so bright and so black and so full of 
twinkles that Helen almost jumped when they 
turned on her. Soft white hair rippled back 
under the lace of her cap and on either side of her 
wrinkled rose leaf cheeks dropped two delicious 
frost work curls. A work table stood beside her 
flowered chintz chair, covered with a litter of gay- 
colored silk pieces, and beyond her busy needle a 
few belated morning-glories looked^in at the win- 
dow. 

“ Here’s Helen Thayer come to see you, grand- 
mother,” said Sarah. 

The little old lady put out her hand. You’ll 
excuse my not getting up, dear. So you’re Mary 
Allen’s daughter. Dear ! Dear ! It seems only 
yesterday that she was coming over here to see my 
Jane. Your mother was a pretty girl, dear.” 

My older sister Phillis is pretty,” Helen said. 

The black eyes twinkled at her. Handsome is 
as handsome does, they used to tell me when I was 
a girl. Cold comfort according to my way of 
thinking for them that were plain, and the hand- 
213 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


some ones didn’t mind it much, seeing that they 
had their beauty.” 

“ You must have been awfully pretty yourself,” 
Helen said, and then blushed brick red at the 
abruptness with which her thought had slipped into 
words. You’re so pretty now,” she explained, 
blushing again. 

The little old lady twinkled at her more gayly 
than ever. A friend of my mother’s told me it 
was lucky my father had property, for I had neither 
beauty nor brains to recommend me. After a 
while I found a man who thought differently, and 
when I did I took him.” 

I don’t believe he was the first to think so.” 

Maybe not. I’m not telling.” 

They laughed together understandingly. 

You are your mother’s own daughter,” said 
Grandma Sefton. You laugh like her, even if 
you don’t look like her.” 

Do I, truly? Oh, I’m so glad you told me. 
Nobody ever said I was the least bit like her be- 
fore.” 

'' Is she well, dear ? ” 

Then Helen had to explain all about her 
mother’s illness and why it was she had come to 

Red Top ” instead of her sister. 

“ I wanted to stay at home and take care of 
mother and the house, but Phillis and Floyd said I 
214 


A REAL GRANDMOTHER 


couldn’t. Don’t you think I’m old enough to do 
a thing like that ? ” 

“ Folks can always do what they have to,” the 
little grandmother told her. '' Whether it’s the 
best thing or not is another matter. My oldest 
sister was married at fifteen and had a house of 
her own. We thought it quite a matter of course. 
Nowadays a girl hasn’t finished her common 
schooling at fifteen, and if she goes to college, 
there are four years more. Our brothers went to 
college, some of them. Nobody ever thought of 
sending us. But we went to the district school 
and studied with the boys and made out to learn 
our lessons as well as they did. Boys and girls 
were thirsty for learning when I was young, dear. 
It was a good time to be alive.” 

Tell me about it,” breathed the girl. 

The little old lady leaned back in her chair and 
looked out over the morning-glories into a far, far 
country, the land of her youth. 

Helen waited silently. 

“ There was nothing above the district school 
here when I was a girl,” she began. “ Big and 
little, boys and girls, toddlers and great six foot 
men, we went together. In the summer the school 
was mostly made up of girls ; the boys were needed 
for the farm work. In the winter months the big 
boys crowded the benches and some of the smallest 
215 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 

tots stayed at home. That was the difference be- 
tween summer term and winter term. 

“ After a while some of us learned all we could 
be taught in the district school, and even then 
weren't ready to stop. One night I came home all 
excitement. There was to be a school in Rye that 
winter and Jim Bates and Jedediah Thorn were 
going. Jed's sister had told me so. I couldn't 
eat my supper that night. I couldn't swallow. 
After supper I did a daring thing. I went up to 
father where he sat before the fire. ‘ Father,' I 
said, ‘ may I go to the school at Rye this winter ? 
James Bates and Jedediah Thorn are going, and I 
was in their classes all last year.' 

Father looked at me a minute, and I held my 
breath. ‘ We shall see,' he told me at last. 

“ Most fathers of that time would have . asked 
what a girl wanted of more learning than I had 
already, but father was proud of my brains, as I 
know now, though he was careful not to let me 
know it then. People took pains not to spoil their 
children when I was a girl. I need not tell you 
that all this happened a number of years — two or 
three, I think — after the lady told me that I lacked 
both brains and beauty, and I was making some- 
thing of a reputation as a blue-stocking, though I 
did not know that, either, at the time. 

Well, I heard nothing of the school project for 
216 


A REAL GRANDMOTHER 


a fortnight. I’d have thought father had forgot- 
ten all about it, but that it was not father’s way to 
forget anything. At the end of a fortnight he called 
me to him. ‘ Daughter,’ he said, ^ I have made all 
the arrangements for you to go to school in Rye 
this winter. Mr. Lewis is sending Nancy. You 
will both live at home and drive over every day 
with James and Jedediah.’ 

“ Girls of to-day don’t feel about going to school 
the way I felt when father told me that I might 
go to Rye. I thought Eden had come back again. 
My granddaughter Sarah might feel so perhaps. 
The ‘arrangements’ were just such as father’s 
energy and thoughtfulness would provide. We 
had five miles to drive to school and there were 
four families to be convenienced. Jed Thorn 
drove the horse that father provided, hitched to a 
carriage of Mr. Lewis’s. I have forgotten what 
was the Bates’s contribution. Five days of every 
week throughout that winter term we four young 
people twice covered the road between here and 
Rye. I don’t remember that I missed a day for 
wind or weather. And the winds could sweep 
up here then as they sweep now, and the snow 
could drift. 

“The academy had no building then. Our 
schoolroom was over a store, one room for study 
and recitation alike. But what we learned ! And 
217 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


the eagerness with which we learned it ! Boys, 
and a few girls too, came from all the towns around. 
I was in class with Jim and Jed. They were pre- 
paring for college. Some people thought father 
foolish to let me study with the boys, but he liked 
to see what I could do.’^ The little old lady 
twinkled. don’t think I disappointed him.” 

Helen twinkled back. 

After that winter the boys went to college, but, 
as I say, there was no college for me to go to. The 
nineteenth century was pretty young then, dear, 
and it didn’t much believe in educating girls. 
Sarah comes on the world at a different time. I’m 
glad for her. But I don’t believe that when she 
gets to college she will find any more zeal of learn- 
ing in its halls than we 3mung people found eighty 
years ago in our little country school over the 
store.” 

“ I know enough now to know that,” said Sarah. 
“ It comes easy to most of the girls who go to col- 
lege in these days, so they don’t care — not as you 
cared, granny.” 

We’ll care,” Helen said. Sarah and I. And 
Molly cares.” 

“ Tell her some of the stories you’ve told me 
about Agatha Allen,” Sarah prompted. 

So, sitting by the ga}^ flowered chair with its 
alert little old occupant, her patchwork pieces a 
218 


A REAL GRANDMOTHER 


drift of color in her black silk lap, Helen listened 
to tale after tale of Agatha Allen ; stored them up in 
her mind to be relived days later in the hiding- 
hole, to be told over and over to the twins when at 
home bedtime descended on the house under the 
elms. 

From Agatha Allen they branched out, compar- 
ing notes on the universe at large. 

You want to interfere just the littlest tiny 
speck, Helen heard herself saying after a while, 
but you know somebody won’t like it. And yet 
you think maybe you ought. What do you do 
then ? ” 

Do it without letting ’em ever know it’s done,” 
said Sarah’s grandmother promptly. That’s the 
only way it’s really safe to meddle with other 
folks’ business. If you can’t do it so, don’t do it 
at all, dear. And even then it’s a risk. Folks are 
spry at finding out what you don’t want ’em to 
know.” 

‘‘ You couldn’t help going to college, with a 
grandmother like that ! ” Helen told Sarah outside 
the door. Could you now ? ” 

I don’t see how I could,” Sarah answered. I 
thought you’d like her.” The commonplace 
words veiled strong feeling. 

She’s such a darling ! ” Helen thought raptur- 
ously on her homeward walk. “ If Sarah hadn’t 
219 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


been there, I could have told her all about the 
fairy godmother and the oak with the secret in it, 
and she’d have understood perfectly — I know she’d 
have understood. Anyway, she says it’s all right 
to do what I want to do, so long as Billy never 
knows ; and he won’t know what I’m doing it for. 
That’s the only thing he mustn’t know. There’s 
nothing to hinder, now that Sarah’s reminded 
me of the address. I’ll do it the very next time I 
go to the village.” 


220 


CHAPTER XIII 


A PUZZLE AND A PARTY 

“Fairy Puzzle No. 1/' ran the legend printed 
on the end of the box in plain black type without 
any quirks, and below it, “ Summo cum actu.' ” 

“ With much action,” mused Helen tossing aside 
the wrapper already half torn away in the mail. 
“ I didn’t know before that fairies talked Latin.” 

Except for the pasted label the box was all a soft 
shadowy green brushed over with plumy pine- 
needles and brown cones. A dull gold cord, 
twisted around it twice both ways, was held fast 
by a big blotch of yellow sealing-wax over the 
knot. Stamped on the wax gleamed a hand grip- 
ping a torch. Helen’s fingers itched to be at the 
seal. 

“ But it’s too pretty to break and I hate to cut 
the cord. Why, there’s something sticking out 
from under the wax ! ” 

Dull-colored and Japanesey, a wee envelope 
came away like a brownish green leaf in her 
hands. “ To be opened,” read the slight odd 
script, slighter and odder than ever, the letters 
221 


HELEN OVER‘THE-WALL 


huddled close on the tiniest imaginable sheet of 
smooth shiny paper where gay little fishes swam 
through the palest of pale green seas, To be 
opened when the world is upside down, when 
there is a stone in your shoe and a snarl in your 
brain and your will is as wishy-washy as a cup 
of weak tea ; but when Beggar Wind and King 
Sun and the blue Gypsy Sky are having what even 
you know for a big jubilant side-splitting frolic/^ 

“ That canT be to-day,’^ Helen thought, '' for 
Billy isn’t going. He wouldn’t say so for worlds, 
but I’m certain sure — almost — that he’s changed 
his mind, and I don’t dare somehow feel any way 
but glad, glad, glad to-day.” 

Very carefully she raised the box and shook it 
gently. It doesn’t jiggle like a picture puzzle. 
Besides, I don’t believe the fairy godmother would 
be sending that kind. She’s so: — so unexpected. 
If I imagined till I’d worn my imaginer to a 
frazzle I’d never hit on the thing that’s it. Out- 
doors comes][in somehow ; but for a picture puz- 
zle she’d have said, wait for rain. Oh, Cousin 
Anne,” skipping into the invalid’s room, just see 
what I’ve got now ! And how can I ever wait to 
begin to put it together ? ” 

Pretty box,” said Cousin Anne. Quite the 
prettiest box I’ve seen. And how light ! You don’t 
suppose she’s sending you one of those little fold- 
222 


A PUZZLE AND A PARTT 


ing bonnets that are all mull and roses ? It wouldn’t 
do to get it wet, of course.” 

“ But a thing to wear isn’t exactly a puzzle, is 
it?” 

“ Some of them are. Where you get into them, 
you know, and how to hook yourself up is puz- 
zling enough, I’m sure. But let’s see. Would 

Nonsense ! We mustn’t risk spoiling the fairy’s 
surprise by guesses.” 

We couldn’t. Cousin Anne, not if we guessed 
for a whole year.” 

Cousin Anne chuckled. “ I hope you’re not 
going to wait that long before looking inside this 
box. If you do, I shall peep. Here’s fair warn- 
ing. But before I forget to speak of it, my dear, I 
have been thinking that perhaps we ought to have 
the Frink girls to tea. Mary White invited you, 
too, last week, did she not? The four of you 
might have supper in the rose garden if the night 
were pleasant. How would you like to ask them 
for day after to-morrow ? ” 

I’m game. Cousin Anne. I beg your pardon. 
I mean I’d like it very much.” 

Very well,” said Cousin Anne. “ I will speak 
to Mrs. Higgins. Jo goes to the village this after- 
noon. Send your invitations in any way you 
wish.” 

I think I’ll go around and ask them. They 
223 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


did that to me, you know.*^ Instinctively Helen’s 
mouth twitched a little at the corners. In day 
dreams she had always seen herself lavishly dis- 
pensing hospitality. As her prospective guests, 
May and Belle Frink began to take on interest. 
Mary White, though not aggressively amusing, she 
had liked. Mary was a still pale girl with an air 
that the Frinks called real elegant ” and Helen 
termed briefly nice.” This fact, though she did 
not then think of it, was likely to contribute to the 
success of the party. 

With a good will as cheerfully spick and span 
as her freshly laundered tan suit she delivered her 
invitations. The Frinks beamed and twittered 
their pleasure rather boisterously. Mary White ac- 
cepted more quietly but with a sparkle of real glad- 
ness in her eyes. 

After that there were orders to give for Mrs. 
Higgins, orders resulting from a most important 
consultation between the housekeeper and the 
hostess, during which Helen had gravely made 
choice between jellied and sliced chicken, tomato 
and fruit salad, strawberry shortcake and lemon 
ice. The thrilling responsibility of this encounter 
wrapped her straight girlish shoulders in a mantle 
of dignity as she addressed Mr. Frink. 

Still Jo was not ready. Choosing from the rack 
a card that showed a glimpse of the gates at ‘‘ Red 
224 


A PUZZLE AND A PARTT 


Top/^ with the reluctant help of a spluttery store 
pen she printed in small black letters in the blank 
space : 

The ogre is beginning to pack his trunk. I 
didn’t tell you half how wicked he was, for I 
didn’t know myself. Don’t worry, I have a fairy 
godmother to protect me. You will never dream 
what can happen in an enchanted castle until you 
live in one. How is the parlor ogre ? And Mr. 
Dooley ? Helen Thayer.” 


There ! ” affixing a green stamp. Now if that 
child doesn’t write and say something about her 
precious brother Ted that will convince Billy Hol- 
brook he really isn’t half across the world, she 
won’t be the nice little youngster I took her for. 
Of course Ted Babbitt might have run up into 
Vermont for just a week or so, but I’ll bet Billy 
says that only because he wants him to be away in 
Europe. Coming, Jo ! ” 

The party ought by rights to have gone off 
beautifully. It was a lovely afternoon. Helen 
herself had helped set the little table just big 
enough for four in a grassy corner of the rose 
garden, where a tall blushing rambler shook petals 
over it. Not a single thing had she dropped ex- 
cept the roses strewn over the cloth the minute 
225 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


before a honk-honk from the gate sent her scam- 
pering through the house to dance out on the 
porch in delighted welcome as the White automo- 
bile drew up at the steps. 

Are we the first?” cried May Frink, with an 
eager glance around. 

Helen laughed. You^re the first and the last, 
too. You’re the party.” 

“ Really ? ” 

Right under Helen’s eyes, as though somebody 
had blown out a candle, the vivacity died in May’s 
face. It did not kindle again all the evening, 
though for just one instant a flicker of interest 
flared when she caught sight of the table. Her 
eyes traveled deliberately over the plates. One — 
two — three — four. Then it sank as quickly as it 
had risen, and a thin, cold, utterly disagreeable 
little smile settled about May’s mouth. 

That smile seemed to take Helen’s happiness by 
the throat and choke it. Perhaps you would natu- 
rally be disappointed if you found a little party 
where you had expected a big one, she thought, 
but — but 

Oh,” sighed Mary White, in absolute untram- 
meled honesty. Don’t ask us to sit down ! I 
couldn’t eat a mouthful — yet. It’s too pretty.” 

“ I don’t feel that way,” said Belle. “ I could 
begin with the roses and eat my way through the 
226 


A PUZZLE AND A PARTY 


cloth just because it^s so pretty, like one of those 
big frosted wedding cakes. Who did it ? 

" I did.^’ 

“ Lucky girl I My fingers are all thumbs when 
it comes to fiowers. But then we haven’t any 
place like this at home to set a table.” 

“ I feel exactly,” said Mary White, like a per- 
son in a picture who has come to life.” 

Helen’s eyes warmed. Do you ? That’s the 
way I hoped you’d feel.” 

It’s so nice and cozy,” cooed Belle. 

“ Particularly cozy,” echoed May with emphasis. 

I am glad you like it,” said Helen simply. “ I 
love the gardens, and sometimes it seems a shame 
to have them all to myself. I feel like such a pig, 
you know, and just as though I’d got to go out 
and drag somebody in and say, * Oh, isn’t it 
lovely ! ’ ” 

“ Do you ? ” queried May. I never should 
have dreamed it, and yet you don’t have far to go.” 

I don’t think I quite understand.” 

Some people like to keep people all to them- 
selves, still ” 

Now that’s too bad. May,” interrupted Belle. 
“ Don’t mind her, Helen. She’s grouchy because 
she expected to meet Billy Holbrook up here. 
May’s daft about Billy Holbrook. Don’t you see 
a lot of him ? ” 


227 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Disgust — cold, hard, shocked disgust — swept 
over Helen. Valiantly she tried to laugh off 
Belle's remark, but the joke rang flat. Mary be- 
gan to talk very fast about the White Rocks, 
where the ice never melted all the year round, 
and had Helen been to the cave ? Under Mary's 
compelling eyes even May Frink had something 
to say about the cave. Belle wanted to know if 
you were ^to say as fast as — something or other — 
what it would be? One of the boys had teased 
her because she always said ‘‘just as fast as any- 
thing." “ What is anything, anyway ? " he wanted 
to know. But all the time Helen ate without 
tasting, while her temper itched disdainfully, like 
a sword in its sheath. 

“ She's your guest," warned conscience. 

“ But she isn't polite," snapped temper. 

“ Polite or not, she's your guest," reiterated con- 
science, stupidly monotonous. 

“ Let her behave like one, then ! " stormed 
temper. “And silly Oh I " 

Aloud she said pleasantly, “ The quickest thing 
I've seen lately is the way May and Billy Hol- 
brook went around those tables at your party." 

Have you ever experienced a revel where some- 
body felt disagreeable and let herself go, if only 
for a minute? The party never lived it down, of 
course. A party can laugh down stupidity, it can 


A PVZZLE AND A PARTY 


set little sticks of stiffness crackling into jolly little 
jokes, it can warm unacquaintance into the merri- 
est of sociability, but plain downright nastiness 
rankles. Tired and torn and rumpled, at the lag- 
gard stroke of nine, already hours overdue, Helen 
called good-night into the sweet summer dark- 
ness. Not particularly tired or torn or rumpled 
to the sight. Outwardly she looked almost as 
trim as when her blithe welcome had rung from 
the same spot. But oh, what a difference inside ! 

And I thought we’d have such fun ! ” she 
mourned, climbing the stairs to bed. I never — 
never — never want another party as long as I live.” 

But all she said to Cousin Anne was, “ I hope 
it’s going to be a good day to-morrow, for I’m al- 
most sure I shall need to play with the puzzle.” 

Cousin Anne smiled and drew her head down 
for a kiss. Good-night, little gentlewoman,” she 
said. 

The words whispered like warm lips in her ear 
while, standing at the dainty dressing-table in the 
morning-glory room, Helen added six blue beads 
to the string in the little white box mother had 
given her. 

“ For there were six separate and distinct times,” 
spearing the fourth bead resolutely, ‘‘when I 
thought I’d burst if I didn’t say something horrid.” 

The warmth lingered even when like the flash 
229 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


of a colossal dark lantern a streak of lightning 
gleamed in her face and she woke to find the 
muslin curtains soaked by pelting rain. No 
stretch of fancy could conjure the morning that 
followed into fairy weather. In desperation that 
afternoon she climbed the wall and borrowed 
Harold, entirely recovered from the eftects of the 
cooky jar and as diverting as three years of ex- 
perience in the world can make a person. Billy 
wanted to come too, but Helen shook her head. 

You’re too old, and you’d be in the way. 
Cousin Anne and I want somebody very new to 
play with to-day. We’re lonesome.” 

I’m new and lonesome both,” Billy declared. 

By new I suppose you mean fresh. I can be 
fresher’n Harold, if I try. Can’t I, Bumps ? ” 

“ You can’t be so little,” taking an obdurate de- 
parture. 

Somehow or other, she felt an absolute distaste 
for Billy to-day, a distaste that was not in the 
least like her feeling after his raid on the oak tree. 
That episode she thought she had a right to hold 
against him. 

‘‘ But it isn’t his fault that girls run after him,” 
spoke up common sense. Why do you care what 
they said ? I hope you aren’t going to spoil a per- 
fectly good time because a girl happens to be silly.” 

If he’s lonesome, let him go and play with 
230 


A PUZZLE AND A PARTT 


May Frink, then,’’ pride retorted. “ I don’t want 
to have anything to do with him, not yet. 
Harold’s plenty big enough for me.” 

And Harold, like a perfect little gentleman, did 
all and more than was expected of him. Climb- 
ing up beside Cousin Anne, he began by shaking 
hands and making Wiggy do the same, Wiggy 
being the best solace he knew for suffering. In 
five minutes he was chattering like a little magpie, 
turning on Cousin Anne and Helen a stream of 
cheerful information concerning himself, Wiggy, 
his new rocking horse, his sand pile, and his sen- 
sations after overindulging in cookies. 

But you can’t build block houses with the chub- 
biest of three-year-olds or tell him stories every 
hour of every day. And when days will persist in 
scowling ferociously for half a morning or marshal- 
ing a procession of thunder-storms across the sky 
of an afternoon or holding the sun provokingly 
just out of sight from dawn to dark till it seems as 
though by standing on tiptoe you must surely see 
him, there are a good many hours hard to dispose 
of. Helen studied the papers for the weather pre- 
dictions and clutched her temper by both hands. 

For I mustn’t get cross. I’ll be sewing a 

wrinkle to my inside face and Oh, dear I I 

scowled then. I know I did. And the fairy god- 
mother likes my forehead smooth. Well, I guess 

231 


HELEN OFER-THE-WALL 


I'll be good and ready for the fairy day if it ever 
does come." 

And then when she had almost given up hope, 
even with the lovely green box in her hands ; 
when she felt exactly as the letter said, only the 
world had turned a double somersault, and her 
shoes were chock full of pebbles, and if there was 
one there were a dozen snarls in her brain, and 
green tea was as firm as toast compared to the way 
her will felt — why, then it happened. A day 
all gold and green, with capering little winds 
that puffed soft white clouds across a sky so velvety 
blue that you wanted to snuggle your face in great 
armfuls of it, teasing winds that tugged at your 
feet till they could hardly keep still long enough 
for you to eat your breakfast. 

Cousin Anne had not finished hers when Helen 
opened the puzzle on the foot of the invalid's bed, 
cutting the dull gold cord so as not to spoil the 
seal. 

Tissue-paper. The box was full of it. Twist 
after twist came up in her hands. One tiny wad 
rolled off the bed and landed with the click of 
metal on the floor. Packages ! Helen's fingers 
darted at the wrappers. A curious collection be- 
gan to assemble on the counterpane. Everything 
was marked with a number inked on the minutest 
of tags. For everything was very small. 

232 


A PUZZLE AND A PARTT 


You take them in order, gasped the girl, 
throwing away the last paper, but what on earth 
do you do with them ? 

That^s the puzzle, I suppose/^ Cousin Anne 
pushed aside her breakfast tray. I can^t half see 
them, my dear, away down there.'’ 

In order Helen transported the collection. First, 
came a book no bigger than a postage stamp, the 
pages blank. Next, a sprig of balsam, and tied to 
it a tiny green scroll, lettered in gold, O for a 
book and a shadie nook ! " Those two fitted to- 
gether. But number three was a miniature pail with 
a removable cover and a real wire handle, in all per- 
haps an inch high. There were six number threes 
identically alike. 

'' And cute ! Oh, Cousin Anne ! " 

A doll's high laced tan boot fiew a tag marked 
four, and a scrap of a Shetland pony hitched to a 
scrappier cart fluttered five from his bridle. On 
the strip of birch bark numbered six was plotted a 
rough map. Seven was nothing more than a bun- 
dle of little sticks. 

And this match came with them. That must 
stand for a fire," suggested Helen. But what 
about eight ? " 

It was a kodak picture of the sphinx, silent and 
mysterious and half buried in sand. 

I don't see," she mused. I don't see at all — 

233 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


unless it means riddle, just as in dumb crambo, 
last of all, you act out the whole word/^ 

“ That is a fair supposition to begin on,’^ said the 
invalid. 

“ If we could only find out what the map says. 
Why, here's ‘Red Top' just as plain as can be ! 
Look, Cousin Anne I " 

Cousin Anne looked at the map spread before 
her. 

“ ‘ Summo cum actu,' " Helen quoted turning 
up the box cover. “ With much action. And the 
arrows say ‘ Go,' and the road tells where — to the 
White Rocks," making a funny little face. “ And 
the sticks say, ‘ Build a fire when you get there.' 
But what about the pails ? Do they mean berry- 
ing? " 

“ What kind of pails are they ? " 

“ Just pails. No, see the little things on top, 
with handles to them. Why, they're cups, only 
they won't come off. Dinner pails ! But six of 
them ! One is for me, I suppose, and the other 
five — I wish you could have one, Cousin Anne." 

“ You can't wish it more than I do, my dear." 

“ That naughty old ogre ! How I hate him I 

Five — five There are just five Holbrooks. Do 

you suppose she means the Holbrooks? " 

“ I haven't much doubt of it. They seem to 
fit." 


234 


PUZZLE AND A PARTY 


N 


E 


iW 


5 



Map of the Road to White Rocks 


235 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Helen picked up the little tan shoe. This 
means high boots, for it might be messy. Or does 
it mean walk ? And the book and the bough say, 
‘ Go where it will be shady and take a book, for 
you might like to read,’ or — it’s a blank book — 
maybe it’s just for the story of the picnic. Which 
do you think ? And the cart ought to mean drive, 

only there’s the boot, and ” 

Why not do both ? But if the fairy godmother 
is telling you to go on a picnic to the White 
Rocks, with all the Holbrook family, I think you 
would better not set out after a Shetland pony. 
The bay span are used to mountain roads and Mr. 
Holbrook handles horses, I presume. Does the 
map have anything to say about where you take 
to your carriage ? ” 

“ There’s a funny little quirk here, with legs to 
it. I do believe it’s meant for a horse.” 

Apple Corners.” Cousin Anne inspected the 
birch bark. ^‘Jo will meet you there with the 
horses, though why she doesn’t let you either walk 
or ride the whole way I don’t see. Mrs. Higgins 
will give you lunch enough. But if Molly wants 
to come over and help make sandwiches I pre- 
sume nobody will object.” 

Helen swooped on the invalid with the raptur- 
ous hug modified just in time to the needs of sci- 
atica. ‘‘Aren’t you an angel. Cousin Anne I You 
236 


A PUZZLE AND A PARTY 


don^t mean, do you, that Mrs. Higgins will give us 
lunch enough for six ! ” 

The keen eyes twinkled. I hope she wonT 
stop at five, my dear, because though Harold may 
be small, I perceive he has capacity. Run along, 
child, before the Holbrooks develop plans of their 
own.’^ 

Helen scampered over the wall so fast this time 
as almost to forget there was any mystery at all 
about either door or tree. One day Billy had 
asked, What does Cousin Sci keep the gate locked 
for ? To keep you out,’’ Helen had answered 
promptly, and that was all the information Billy’s 
wheedling had ever evoked. 

Bully F. G.,” was his comment on the invita- 
tion. Us-ums go, don’t us, mumsie ? Say us- 
ums go.” 

The five of us — for a day in the woods — with 
a fairy godmother I Yes, Billy, I know you think 
it is all right, but ” 

^‘Oh, dear, I didn’t explain well at all, Mrs. 
Holbrook ! ” Helen plunged in again. 

Going? ” boomed Mr. Holbrook’s deep rollick- 
ing voice. Of course we’re going, mother. Even 
if we haven’t any fairy godmothers of our own we 
know how to treat invitations from other people’s 
godmothers. They’re like royalty, you can’t refuse. 
Isn’t that so, Molly ? ” 


237 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


But Molly was already slipping off her apron. 
“ V\l be right over and help make the sandwiches/’ 
she said. 

Me, too,’’ chirruped Billy. Say, d’ye s’pose 
we’ll met the old lady in the woods ? Better take 
along your butterfly net, Moll.” 

“ I don’t know,” laughed Helen, flying down 
the path. You never can tell what she’ll do.” 


238 


CHAPTER XIV 


PICNICKING 

To the spirited bark of three cheers and a tiger 
for the fairy godmother/^ executed by Billy, the 
guests set out on her picnic. Billy and Helen 
frisked ahead. Harold rode on his father’s 
shoulder, joyously thumping sturdy little heels 
against his chest. Beside them trotted Mrs. Hol- 
brook as easily as though Helen had not thought 
it polite to invite her to drive over this first lap 
with Jo and the lunch. Last of all came Molly, 
lagging now and then, and making up for it with 
light-footed spurts of swiftness. 

“ Come on. Don’t hold up the party, Moll I ” 
Billy charged into the group halted under a big 
maple. 

There I You’ve scared him,” said Molly. 

Scared what ? What was it ? ” Helen scam- 
pered back, craning her neck. 

A Maryland yellow throat, I thought, didn’t 
you, father?” 

“ Oh, for a bird, a screechy scrotchy bird ! ” 
chanted Billy capering down the road with his 

239 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


head laid against his spine at a dizzy angle that 
sent him tumbling and bounding for half a rod to 
recover his balance. 

“ I didn’t see any bird,” said Helen. 

“ Of course not, Seesaw. You haven’t been to 
college yet. That’s another little trick they teach 
you, how to start for somewhere and get held up 
by a bird under the first tree. I say, let’s yell ! 
To scare off the feathers, you know. With two 
such bird fiends along as the Pater and Moll we’ll 
never get anywhere if we don’t.” 

Helen, busy seeing which could puff harder, she 
or a little vagrant breeze, scarcely heard him. 
Everything looked so happy, she thought. Along 
the edges of the meadows lilies rang in midsum- 
mer with slender orange and yellow bells. Deli- 
cate films of Queen Anne’s lace spread over the 
fields. A riotous company of buttercups, early 
mulleins, hardback, and elder crowded against the 
fences. Yellow butterflies fluttered under foot in 
the brown road. And below, cupped in high blue 
hills, the valley almost gurgled, so cool and green 
and inviting did it look, like a giant’s jade drink- 
ing bowl. The skip in her toes mounted up, up, 
up, as the bubbles rose in the spring at Red Top.” 

Oh, Billy,” she said, aren’t you glad you 
didn’t die of measles when you were four ? It’s so 
perfectly gorgeously glorious to be alive ! ” 

240 


PICNICKING 


I didn’t have ’em when I was four,” objected 
Billy. “ Six and three-quarters. And you bet I 
made a jolly fuss, too. No measles for me if row- 
ing could help it.” 

Now they were passing the strawberry patch 
and the girl waved to a sunbonnet bending over 
a long row of plants. I wish she could go too ! ” 

The next minute Helen was inside the fence. 
“ We’re going on a picnic,” she cried to Sarah 
Stuart. Couldn’t you possibly come ? ” 

Take a day off,” urged Billy, loyally seconding 
his chum. 

The girl smiled out of depths of pink gingham. 

I’d like to, but Mrs. Frink wants a dozen baskets 
by noon, and I promised I’d try to have them 
ready. It’s hard picking at the tail end of a sea- 
son.” 

Billy turned on his heel and bolted. 

' Six pairs of hands work faster than one,” said 
Mr. Holbrook a minute later from the end of the 
row. Where are our baskets, young lady ? I 
offer a pipe-of-Pan whistle to the picker who fills 
the first basket.” 

Sarah Stuart’s remonstrances met deaf ears. 
Everybody was reaching for a basket and hurry- 
ing away to a hopeful-looking row. How they 
picked ! Mrs. Holbrook, in handfuls, economiz- 
ing motions ; Molly, with cool deft ease on the 
241 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


pattern of her mother; Billy, pawing the leaves 
like a frolicsome puppy but securing an astonish- 
ing amount of fruit ; Helen, one at a time and in 
such breathless haste that she dropped every third 
berry ; Mr. Holbrook, with a steady dexterity that 
still left him one eye for Harold. Mother Hol- 
brook won the whistle and promised Helen the 
first toot. Before anybody dreamed it could be 
time, the baskets were filled, a triumphant pro- 
cession had streamed up to the house, and joking 
and laughing had borne Sarah Stuart off to the 
covered three-seater waiting with Jo and the bays 
at the next turn in the road. 

Molly and Sarah climbed into the back seat, 
Mrs. Holbrook with Billy and Harold adorned the 
middle, and Helen spread the birch bark map on 
her knee beside the driver. 

From the road Jo grinned through his haze of 
freckles. ^^There^s a hatchet forcuttin’ fire-wood. 
And the horses^ feed is ready for ^em in two bags. 
I guess you^ll manage to make out somehow.” 

The horses shook their heads and pranced a lit- 
tle, just to show they too were in picnicking mood. 
Mr. Holbrook glanced back over his shoulder — 
Everybody ready ? ” — and took up the reins. 

Good-bye, Jo, good-bye ! Sorry you’re not 
coming along. Tell Cousin Anne it’s perfectly 
great I ” 


242 


PICNICKING 

Joseph, Joseph, how can I part with thee ! 
sang Billy in a high falsetto, leaning in a despair- 
ing attitude over the wheel. 

Don’t be a monkey on a stick,” Molly adjured 
him. “ Jo isn’t used to your foolishness.” 

That kind don’t take much learnin’,” called 
Jo, waving his rusty straw. 

The bays kicked their heels high after the man- 
ner of the morning, for all the world as though 
they were not steady old mountain horses who 
knew every foot of the road as well as they knew 
the taste of oats. Their hoofs boomed across plank 
bridges spanning small gurgling brooks and thudded 
briskly beside the willowy course of a little river 
where white clouds sailed a winding blue lane. 
Soon, freakish as a kitten, the road veered from the 
water and plunged down a cool green tunnel with 
twinkling yellow sunbeams playing at hide and seek 
among shaggy brown tree trunks. But before any- 
body had ceased exclaiming the horses stretched 
their necks to a hill all blazing gold light, and at the 
top dipped as suddenly into a pine wood pungent 
with fragrance where the hoofs went as softly as 
though they were treading on velvet. 

It was noon when at the last turn on the map 
Billy swung a high barred gate into a mountain 
pasture. Bumpity bump, the wagon bounced over 
the stones in the narrow rutty apology for a road. 

243 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 

At the edge of the woods even the apology stopped 
short, abruptly, absolutely, and there seemed to be 
nothing anywhere but trees and sweet fern bushes 
and towering brakes. 

Haven’t we made a mistake?” asked Mother 
Holbrook. 

‘'The path leads away through those bushes,” 
Sarah Stuart reassured her. 

While Father Holbrook attended to the horses 
the rest made a dash for the lunch baskets. In 
single file with arms full they struck into the faint 
ferny trail, Billy heroically yielding Helen the 
lead because it was her fairy godmother who was 
giving the picnic. Fifteen minutes of dodging ex- 
pectancy and the last detaining bough let them out 
on the open mountainside. With a whoop Billy 
deposited his burden and went bounding, chamois- 
like, up the rough slope. After him sped Helen, 
more slowly, stopping every now and then to 
emit chirps of delight as she raced over the huge 
gray-lichened rocks. From far above poured the 
torrent of boulders, surging against the woods in 
wild confusion. 

“ Feel it I Feel it ! ” squealed Helen skipping 
back and forth like a crazy girl. “ Now I’m hot, 
and now I’m cold Did you ever ! ” 

Molly and Sarah Stuart were beside her in an 
instant. 


244 


PICNICKING 


“ And plates ! My eye, but we’re elegant I ” 
Here it’s as warm as out in the pasture,” cried 
Molly. ‘‘ And here,” springing to the next rock, 
‘‘br-r-r-r! Please somebody lend me an overcoat!” 

^^And just three tiny steps between,” Helen 
gasped. ‘‘ Ouch 1 Ouch I How my teeth chatter 1 ” 
“ See the ice down there?” Sarah Stuart pointed 
under the ledges of the rock. “ It never melts all 
the year round. On the hottest summer day folks 
come here and find cold blasts blowing from that 
ice the same as they do now.” 

It’s like an air sandwich.” Helen began to 
skip more madly. “ The cold in between the hot, 

and you never can tell Why, what’s that ? ” 

Following her pointing finger the picnickers en- 
countered a prosaic businesslike object set high on a 
broad flat ledge. In the midst of this wild jumble 
of rock and wood, grazing delicate mosses and ferns 
watered by trickling streams of melting ice, 
shadowed by huge forest trees, out of sight and 
sound, almost out of memory of houses and towns, 
stood — an ice-cream freezer. The jaunty red and 
green label still stuck to its smooth gray side. 
By it lay a bag of salt. A tag was tied to the bail. 

‘‘ Bunny whickets I ” Billy backed abruptly up 
to Helen. Pinch me. Seesaw ! Pinch me I ” 

But where did it come from ? ” cried Sarah 
Stuart. It can’t have been left here all night, or 
245 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


it wouldn’t look so fresh — and there’s cream in it, 
cream I It’s all ready to freeze ! What on earth ! ” 

Helen clasped her hands. “ Didn’t I say you 
couldn’t ever tell what she’d do ? ” But her brain 
whirled. 

‘‘She? Who’s she?” 

“I know,” grinned Billy. “The F. G. But 
I’ll bet I know another thing, too — why Joseph 
put in that hatchet.” 

Helen did not hear him. She was on her knees 
examining the tag. On it a grinning little brown 
elf swung his legs from a tiny brown toadstool. 

And then like a flash she understood. Oh, 
what an imbecile she had been to be taken in so 
completely by Cousin Anne’s surprise ! She, the 
sinner, had pretended not to know anything more 
than Helen about the puzzle. Of course she was 
in the secret. Perhaps she hadn’t been in it all 
along, but she was now. How else could the ice- 
cream freezer have come here? Unless — a doubt 
assailed the girl’s conclusions — unless it was Jo 
who was in the confldence of the mysterious lady 
whose identity Helen knew in the depths of her 
heart was no mystery at all. How could she help 
knowing the roads when she used to live here? 
she thought. 

While everybody stood about declaring in var}^- 
ing phrases that of course things would happen at 
246 


PICNICKING 


a fairy picnic that couldn’t anywhere else, Billy 
jumped down among the rocks and began chop- 
ping ice and stuffing it into a burlap bag that he 
had found wrapped around the hatchet. And 
then and there right out in the wilds they made 
ice-cream. Billy and Helen packed the freezer 
with ice and salt and everybody gave a turn to the 
crank just to say they had all helped, Harold of- 
fering a ready little tongue when the beater was 
withdrawn. 

If you have never cooked and eaten your din- 
ner in the woods you can have all the fun of do- 
ing it, like Helen, for the first time, though of 
course if you happen to be a very near relative of 
Little Miss Muffett you may notice drawbacks. 

The Holbrooks and Sarah Stuart, being old 
hands, and no kin at all to Miss Muffett, knew ex- 
actly how to go about it. In three minutes Father 
Holbrook had a fire crackling where the smoke 
would go up a kind of natural chimney. Mrs. 
Holbrook and Sarah investigated the lunch ham- 
pers. Coffee tied in little muslin bags went into 
pails slung on a pole above the fire and soon a 
spicy odor spread over the rocks. They laid the 
table on a big flat boulder, tree-shaded, covering 
it with a gay tissue lunch cloth that caused Billy 
to inquire pathetically if somebody would please 
tell him, was this the Waldorf Astoria? 

247 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Olive bottles punctuated piles of sandwiches, 
sliced tongue, cake, and cookies. Butter, salt, and 
sugar sat about handily. Little meat pies, slipped 
for a minute to an end of hot rock from which the 
fire had been raked, steamed in a way to make 
your mouth water. 

The fact that others than the seven chosen 
feasters helped themselves seemed to disturb 
nobody. When spiders fell into the cream bottle, 
Billy fished them out and spread them on mulberry , 
leaves to dry. Molly stopped in the middle of a 
sandwich to cheer a valiant black ant making off 
with a particularly corpulent crumb of cake. 

“ It isnT every day they get a picnic,” she ex- ; 
postulated. Do let them enjoy it in peace, ; 
Helen. How would you like to have a giant all 
the time shooing you away from that meat pie? ” , 

When a tiny brown hopper came along and ' 
Helen jumped and dropped her potato, freshly { 
raked from the ashes and done to such a turn that j 
it broke its jacket and showered everybody with -j 
hot white flakes, they only laughed. Helen her- I 
self laughed, and twisted her neck to look after j 
the little brown visitor, while she helped herself to j 
a fresh potato and a slice of Molly^s wonderful toast, j 
For Molly had cut a branch from a young birch, ^ 
stripped off the leaves and twisted together the j 
twigs, plaiting in fresh ones, until she had the 
248 



“don't I SEE ANOTHER SANDWICH? 




1 


I 



PICNICKING 


most fascinating toaster Helen had ever seen in 
her life, large enough to hold nearly a dozen slices 
at a time. Even Sarah, who had picnicked ever 
since she was knee high to a grasshopper,’^ had 
known nothing like it. 

“ There’s only one thing the F. G. forgot,” said 
Billy. A fellow wishes she’d arranged to have 
his skin three times too big for him.” 

Mercy I ” Molly exclaimed. ‘‘ Isn’t yours elas- 
tic enough ? Three slices of toast, four meat pies, 
and as many potatoes, and I wouldn’t dare guess 
how many sandwiches — not to speak of ” 

'' Don’t mention it,” Billy interrupted. '' ’Tisn’t 
manners to talk about what you eat. Anyway, 
your house is sort of glassy, Moll. Don’t I see 
another sandwich over there ? ” 

And two cookies ! ” Helen cried. 

One more meat pie,” laughed Sarah. 

“ Couldn’t you help out on this potato ? ” 
gravely suggested his father. 

Everything eatable began moving toward Billy. 

Send ’em along,” agreed that youth tranquilly. 

Anything that Moll's little friends don’t want.” 

But the best was yet to come, for nothing that 
anybody could ever remember eating had had the 
exotic flavor of that ice-cream made in the green 
midsummer woods with ice chopped on the spot. 
It’s like eating miracles,” Helen averred. 

249 


HELEN OFER-THE-JVALL 


“ As though the calendar had run off the track/’ 
suggested Father Holbrook, and January had 
telescoped July.” 

‘‘ The F. G.’s a scorcher.” Billy passed his saucer 
for a third filling. Wish somebody’d introduce 
me to mine.” 

Do you think she could beat this ? ” asked 
Molly. 

I’d like to see her try. Two’s better than one. 
Just fasten your mind on a summer run by a pair 
of ’em, Moll.” 

‘‘We might let the last person through eating 
clean up,” remarked Molly naughtily, laying down 
her spoon. 

“Fire away. You can’t scare me that easy,” 
grinned Billy. “ Seesaw’s still game, I see.” 

In the end they all lent a hand and signs of the 
feast vanished swiftly. The Holbrooks prided 
themselves on leaving a picnic ground with only 
the blackened circle of their fireplace to tell later 
comers that a party had passed that way. When 
the baskets were stacked and the last papers were 
rapidly becoming charred fiakes and everybody 
felt lazy and warm and like nothing so much as 
dropping down where he stood and taking a nap, 
Mrs. Holbrook drew out a book. 

“ That’s what I forgot I ” cried Helen. “ And 
she said to bring one, too.” 

250 


PICNICKING 


When you can lie flat on your back on the mossy 
side of a rock, one hand under your head and the 
other snuggled around a chubby three-year-old — 
having made sure there are no toads about — and 
look through waving green plumes into a blue, 
blue sky, all the while a low pleasant voice is re- 
lating the adventures of a hamadryad who lost 
her tree and didn't know where to And it — 
you ought, Helen felt, to be satisfled inside and 
out. 

The story ran somewhat in this fashion : 

One day a wandering wind went piping through 
the forest. It piped to the flowers and they 
nodded ; it piped to the birds and they sang. 
Sturdy old trees that had endured for scores of 
years liked its piping and shook their leaves in 
applause. A very little hamadryad, who lived in 
a very little tree, went wild with joy. She slipped 
out of her tree and danced up and down hand in 
hand with a jolly little branch. But the piping 
sounded so gay and glad that soon she let go her 
hold of the branch and danced after the music. 
On and on she went through the forest, following 
the wind. And then suddenly the piping ceased 
and the little hamadryad looked up to find herself 
among strange trees whose leaves twinkled in a 
language that she did not understand. And she 
251 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


knew no better than when she set out where the 
wind blew to, poor lost baby dryad. 

Then the wood creatures bestirred themselves. 
The rabbits took her to their burrows and the 
woodchucks shared their holes with her. The 
foxes and the bears helped until she should be old 
enough to go through the forest hunting for her 
tree. But when she was old enough she did not 
look in the least like the baby dryad who had lost 
it. Then she had been small and pink with a 
funny little brush of pale colored hair. Now she 
was tall, moving like the rippling of a leafy bough, 
and she had great brown e3^es and hair that blew 
in clouds over her green gown, hair just the color 
of bark. And she remembered nothing about her 
tree except that it was small and slender, and that 
did her very little good for it, too, must have 
grown. 

When in doubt, ask,’’ said the wood creatures 
who had succored her. 

So she set her face to go through the forest ask- 
ing everybody, Have you seen a tree without any 
dryad ? ” 

A tree without any dryad ? There’s no such 
thing,” answered a white birch. Or stay, once a 
wind told me — was it West Wind or East ? Yes, 
my dear, I think there is such a tree, but really 
where it is I can’t tell you.” 

252 


PICNICKING 


We heard of one the year before last/’ the vio- 
lets said, “ from a zephyr who had it from a thistle- 
down. Perhaps the hepaticas could tell you, 
they’re up so early they get most of the news.” 

Yes,” replied the hepatica leaves sagely. 

There is such a tree, but we have never seen it. 
We have never seen anybody who has seen it. 
Ask the robins, they ought to know.” 

The robins sent her to the angleworms and the 
angleworms to the snails and the snails to the 
ants, and every one confirmed the same story. 
There was a tree without a dryad, but where no- 
body could quite tell. 

But cheer up I Cheer up I ” called the robins. 

You’ll find it.” 

“ Home — sweet-sweet-sweet ! ” sang the veeries. 

What should she do ? All she knew was that 
rumor said somewhere in the big wood her tree 
was waiting. 

Mrs. Holbrook closed the book over one finger 
and settled her shoulders more comfortably against 
a mossy boulder. “ You may take turns in mak- 
ing up endings,” she said. Molly ! ” 

Harold lay fast asleep, curled up like a kitten. 
Carefully, so as not to disturb him, Helen rolled 
over on her side, where she could watch the story- 
teller. 


253 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


‘ When in doubt, ask,’ ” quoted Molly. She 
put out her hand and picked up a little green inch- 
worm. One day, the dryad met a green worm. 
‘ Oh, Mr. Inchworm,’ she said, ^ can you tell me 
the way back to my tree ? ’ 

^ Inch ! Inch I ’ said the worm. ‘ Inching is 
the only way I get anywhere.’ ” Helen could see 
quite distinctly the slender green flame humping 
itself across Molly’s hand. ‘ My friend Mr. Tree 
Toad may be able to advise you further.’ 

“ ' Oh, Mr. Tree Toad,’ ” Molly’s Angers closed on 
a small mottled gray creature, “ ^ can you tell me 
the way back to my tree ? ’ 

“ ^ Hop ! Hop ! ’ squeaked Mr. Tree Toad. ^ Hop 
hard ! You can’t miss it if you hop long enough. 
But you might speak to my friend. Miss Arachne.’ ” 
Molly held up a spider swinging at one end of 
an invisibly slender thread. “ ^ Oh, Miss Arachne, 
can you tell me the way back to my tree ? ’ 

^ Spin ! Spin ! Spin every day. You can al- 
ways get back where you came from if you follow 
your thread.’ 

So the dryad inched and hopped and spun, 
never missing a day, until she came to a part of 
the forest that looked like nothing she could ever 
remember except in dreams. Squirrels were busy 
doing their fall hauling, and she stopped one of 
them. 


254 


PICNICKING 


Mr. Squirrel, can you tell me where to 
find my tree ? ' 

* Three oaks to the left and one to the right — 
skip the chestnut,’ chattered the squirrel. ' It’s 
been waiting for you a long while. I shouldn’t 
wonder if you’d find tenants. Good-day ! ’ 

So the dryad came to her tree, and sure enough 
she found tenants, the great-great-great-grand- 
son of whom ” — Molly pounced on a nimble 
lizard — has told me this story. Your turn, 
Sarah.” 

The dryad felt pretty forlorn when she started 
out with a whole forest ahead of her,” said Sarah 
slowly. The very first thing she did, I think, 
when all the wood creatures spoke such discourag- 
ing words to her was to sit down and cry. The 
next thing was to plan out her search. ‘ Crying 
never found a tree,’ she said. ‘ I’ll go to the east 
and the north and the west and sooner or later I’ll 
strike the right place. But I won’t ask anybody 
else because I’ve asked enough to be sure they 
don’t know, and it would just mix me up for noth- 
ing.’ So she began her search and she kept at it 
day after day, spring and summer and fall, but in 
winter she curled up under the leaves and slept 
soundly till the hepaticas woke her by poking 
their woolly nightcaps out of bed. It took a long 
while and was hard work, but when she found it 

255 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


the tree made up for everything. Mine is a pretty 
short story, I’m afraid.” 

Not half so short as mine will be,” grinned 
Billy. “ Dry goes snooping around as glum as a 
last year’s mullein stalk until she comes to a tree 
that looks good enough to camp out under. The 
tree never had a thingummy like her inside it and 
hadn’t ever calculated on having one, but this 
seemed a good enough sort as dryads go. ^ Come 
along up,’ says the tree, ^ if you like.’ 

“ ' Don’t mind if I do,’ says Dry. ^ What’s the 
difF? One tree’s as good as another.’ So up she 
goes. Cut in. Seesaw.” 

The dryad didn’t see what she could do in that 
big forest to find her tree all by herself when no- 
body seemed to know very well where it was,” 
Helen began shyly. But she thought maybe if 
she started out and did her best something would 

happen to help her. Now the dryad had a ” 

‘‘ Fairy godmother,” cried Billy. 

No interruptions allowed,” said Mr. Holbrook. 

Do dryads have fairy godmothers ? Then this 
dryad had a fairy godmother. But she didn’t 
know it. She didn’t hear a little voice saying 
over and over, ‘ Put on your spectacles 1 Put on 
your spectacles 1 Put on your spectacles I ’ until 
all at once she found she had them on, and then 
she caught the tiniest tail end of a whisper. The 
256 


PICNICKING 


spectacles looked exactly as though they were cut 
out of the corner of a rainbow, all glimmery shim- 
mery colors, and yet the dryad could see through 
them perfectly well and see things she had never 
dreamed of seeing before. Balancing on the bowl 
of an Indian pipe stood the fairy godmother. She 
spread gauzy dragon-fly wings and flew straight to 
the dryad’s shoulder. ^ Read the name-plates on 
the doors,’ she said, ^ and talk to all the winds. 
There isn’t much of anything a wind can’t tell you 
if he chooses.’ 

And then the dryad with the fairy spectacles 
saw that on every tree there was a name-plate just 
as there is on lots of houses. There were signs too. 
Some said, ' To Rent,’ and some, ' For Sale,’ and 
some ^ Wanted, a family for the winter,’ but not 
one said, ^ Lost — a hamadryad.’ 

A great many winds came along, big bluff, 
gusty winds and steady up-tearing winds, cross 
cold winds and warm flowery winds, fresh frisky 
winds and little soft skippery ones, and of every 
one of them the dryad asked, ^ Did you ever hear 
of a wind that piped a baby dryad away from her 
tree, and which way was he blowing ? ’ Even the 
cross winds were polite because of the fairy god- 
mother, and though they had pretended not to 
know anything about her tree before, they knew 
all about it now. ^ Keep on just the way we’re go- 
257 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


ing/ or ' Your tree's just the other way/ they would 
say, and then the dryad would push on against 
them or turn and let them help her along faster 
than fast. And all the time she read the names on 
the door-plates until she came to a tree that stood 
so straight and tall and shook out its shining leaves 
so far that she wished — oh, how she wished — it 
was her tree. But the name-plate, ‘ Miss Sylvia 
Hamadryad,' fairly sparkled and it didn't look a 
bit like a tree that was deserted and empty. Then 
the fairy godmother said, ^What's on that leaf ? ' 
And the dryad looked through the fairy spectacles 
and saw pricked on the leaf a letter. It was a 
very little letter. It read, ^ Please, hamadryad, come 
home. Your tree has cleaned house and is waiting.' 

Then the hamadryad knocked on the trunk 
and it swung open and she stepped over the root 
threshold into her very own tree again." 

That's good enough to end with," said Mr. 
Holbrook. Who wants to see what happens be- 
yond that rock ? " 

If we find a dryad," Molly called over her 
shoulder, we'll send her down to you, mother." 

Sarah Stuart, climbing beside Helen, turned on 
her a happy face. “ We don't have to find a 
dryad, do we ? Only her hair isn't brown." 

“ Isn't she the loveliest thing you ever saw ? " 
Helen whispered back. Oh, hear her laugh I " 
258 


PICNICKING 


The one I^m going to is her college/^ said 
Sarah, and she’s told me to apply right off. The 
waiting list is made up years ahead. She thinks I 
can get a scholarship after freshman year. That 
would help a lot. If I couldn’t I guess I wouldn’t 
be worth educating. I begin picking raspberries 
to-morrow — up on the mountain. I’m so glad you 
asked me to come ! It’s been a day to live on for 
months, to take out next winter, when the ther- 
mometer’s twenty below zero, and we’re buried in 
snow, and just gloat over.” 

Helen did not wait for winter to begin to gloat. 
But because her thoughts were so dreamily, trans- 
lucently happy, Billy’s words cut like blunt 
blundering shears across a pile of floss silk and 
roughened them into sudden dismayed confusion. 
They had carried the empty pails and hampers 
into the kitchen at Red Top.” At the door 
Billy turned back, the mischievous imp looking 
out of his eyes. “ I’ve got my ticket,” he told her. 

“ Your ticket — what ticket ? ” 

To the Junction. Haven’t bought beyond 
that yet. Didn’t I tell you I’d heard of a summer 
job? Place where a fellow can earn enough to 
keep him going — and a little more.” 

I don’t believe it.” 

“ You don’t ! Maybe you’ll say that when I 
show you the letter.” 


259 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


“ I don^t believe youVe bought your ticket,” 
Helen explained. 

'' What’s that but a ticket ? ” Billy extended his 
hand, an oblong of printed cardboard in his palm. 

Remember what I told you, Miss Over-the-Wall. 

When I — got — good — and — ready ” 

“ Just the same,” thought the girl, hurrying off 
to tell Cousin Anne of the day’s adventures, “ I 
don’t believe a w^rd of it. Molly said her mother 
had to go to the Junction pretty soon. That ticket’s 
for her, most likely. Billy is just talking to scare 
me.” 


260 


CHAPTER XV 


THE WISH EXCHANGE 

Do you suppose I could raise something — 
something that would sell, I mean ? 

The question, fired out of five full minutes of ab- 
straction iron-clad to the point of deafness, brought 
Cousin Anne’s keen eyes to instant attention. 

Mercy, child ! Sheep or cabbages ? ” 

Helen considered the question, a little smile 
tucked away at the corners of her mouth. Sheep 
would be just a tiny bit difficult for a girl, wouldn’t 
they ? I must have meant cabbages. Of course 
I’ve always been going to earn money, but Sarah 
Stuart’s mushrooms make me fairly itch to begin. 
Not little teenchy bits of money, five cents or ten 
for minding the Loomis’ baby an hour, or even 
half a dollar for keeping the Pages’ pansies picked 
the month they’re away, but whole lumps of 
money ! ” spreading out her arms. What do 
you think would be a good way to begin. Cousin 
Anne? ” 

Cousin Anne parried the question with another. 

What do you want to do with the money ? ” 
Squirming her way deeper into the big wicker 
261 


HELEN OFER-THE-WALL 


chair and cupping her chin in her hands, Helen 
settled down for the thing she loved, a speculative 
talk. 

“ First Vm going to do what Sarah^s doing. 
I’m going to college. I did think I’d earn as 
I went along — you read about so many people 
doing that — but Molly says Sarah’s way is much 
better, at least I ought to have something saved 
ahead so as not to do too much earning while I’m 
studying. I’d have to skip so much of the worth- 
whileness because I hadn’t any time for it, you see, 
and then if I worked summer vacations, too, I’d 
have to be strong as an ox or it would rip the tuck 
out of me. Isn’t that a funny expression. Cousin 
Anne ? Molly heard Sarah say it. I said I was 
strong as a calf, anyway, and I thought she’d never 
stop laughing. You see after freshman year I can 
get a scholarship. But I really do think I’d better 
lay by a few hundreds before I start. Doesn’t 
that sound grand ? A few hundreds I Cousin 
Anne, I feel like a plutocrat whenever I think of 
’em.” 

“So I see. Meanwhile But didn’t you 

say college was only your first investment? ” 

“ Oh, yes, for after I get out of college there’ll 
be quantities of things to do. I’m going to help 
Floyd and Phillis give mother just everything 
she wants. You can’t think how she’s scrimped 
262 


THE WISH EXCHANGE 


and gone without and worn brown when she 
wanted to wear blue, because the brown things 
came in a box of cast-offs that somebody sent, 
and how she’s squeezed her eyes tight shut on the 
flower catalogues. The house will have to be 

painted, and probably we’ll all go abroad and 

Oh, quantities of things ! But mother says the 
first thing for us to do is to study hard and learn 
all we can with the chances we have or can make. 
Then we’ll be ready to do our part in the world 
honorably and happily, wherever we are, whether 
it’s in a big spandy dry house or a shabby old 
leaky one — only of course we’re not going to live 
all our days with the paint flaking off the way 
it does now.” The rush of words ended breath- 
lessly. 

You look as though you enjoyed the pros- 
pect.” 

'' Oh, I do. It’s perfectly great planning what 
you’re going to do ! Only — you see mother thinks 
my ideas are all too big. I can tell by her smile. 
It’s that way about my going to college. She says 
I mustn’t set my heart on it so hard that I can’t 
pry it off What is the fun of wanting if you 
don’t want hard ? ” 

I believe there is a prudent theory to the effect 
that mild desires entail softer knocks than the 
other kind. Would it be inquisitive of me to in- 
263 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


quire a little more closely into your definition of 
cabbages ? 

“ Cabbages ? Oh, yes. But I don^t know ex- 
actly myself. That's what I wanted to ask you 
about, Cousin Anne. Mother says you have such 
fine business judgment. Embroidery," she made 
up a funny little face, and lots of things other 
girls do, I'm no good at. When Floyd made and 
sold jig-saw puzzles two or three winters ago I 
helped stick on the pictures. It was great fun 
and I cut a few puzzles myself, but it really was 
Floyd's business. If only I could invent some- 
thing cute and funny that everybody would want 
to buy the way they wanted to buy those puzzles ! 
But when I try to think up something my brains 
go round and round like kittens chasing their 
tails and never get anywhere. Once I — I — the 
twins like my stories, you know, and" — flushing 
hotly — “ I expect you'll think it was too nervy for 
anything, Cousin Anne, but I wrote one of them 
out, and copied it the way they say you ought, as 
plain as I knew how, on one side of the paper 
only, and sent it to a magazine." 

‘‘ So did I — once," said Cousin Anne. “ They 
returned mine with a printed slip." 

“ Saying not to be discouraged, maybe somebody 
else would want it ? " 

The invalid nodded. 

264 


THE WISH EXCHANGE 


“ And did you believe it, Cousin Anne, did you ? 

“ For a while. Then I stopped.^^ 

It takes so many stamps,’^ sighed Helen, '' and 
they keep telling you to persevere. And you're 
scared for fear somebody will find it out. You 
have to fairly haunt the mails, and the big brown 
envelopes look so sick." 

“ The thing inside looks sicker," remarked 
Cousin Anne. 

From the arm of the wicker chair two blue eyes 
surveyed her contentedly. “ I do think you're 
the very most satisfactory person to talk with I 
ever met." 

Thank you, my dear. I might tell you that 
probably a quarter of the people you meet have 
that kind of skeleton stowed away in their closets. 
I remember chatting for half an hour with three 
people who looked as innocent of it as gamboling 
lambs. Something switched the talk into the 
right channel, and, believe it, not a soul of us four 
but knew by experience the printed slip." 

“ I haven't so very many," Helen explained. 

It seemed as though in spite of all the articles 
about ^ try, try again ' maybe I'd better put off 
trying until I grew up." 

My dear, the more I see you the more I am 
impressed with the fact that you are an extremely 
sensible girl." 

265 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Really ! How nice of you I 

“ The girl you are is very like the girl I used 
to be, and she never quite grew up, so perhaps I 
am prejudiced. But,^' smiling a little, a woman 
of business judgment and a sensible girl ought to 
be able to achieve something in the line of ‘ cab- 
bages.^ I must think. Do you wish to retain me 
as your confidential adviser?’^ 

Are your fees very high ? I mustnT go in 
debt to start with.^’ 

Seeing you are you, and that I am already 
somewhat in your debt, perhaps I might waive the 
point of fees.’^ 

Helen flew out of her chair with a jump that 
shoved it against a stand bearing a tall vase of 
lilies. For ten tottering seconds, held in a spell 
of horrified petrifaction, she watched them. Then 
the lilies careened beyond her rescuing hand and 
clashed to the floor. 

Cousin Anne ! Oh, Cousin Anne ! — What are 
you laughing at ? ” 

You looked so funny, my dear. I beg your 
pardon, but sometimes — only sometimes — you are 
the funniest thing I ever saw in my life ! 

Billy thinks so all the time,’’ sighing. “ He 
calls me a howling joke. Did that girl you were 
drop things ? ” 

“ Quantities of ’em. Her brothers nicknamed 
266 


THE WISH EXCHANGE 


her 'Dropsy/ and laughed at her just as I do at 
you till she learned it was better to laugh than to 
cry over spilt milk/' 

Slowly Helen gathered up the broken pottery 
and replaced the lilies in another jar. “But, 
Cousin Anne, I broke your vase, and most likely 
it cost a lot more money than I've got in my 
purse." 

“ As it happens, I picked it up on a ten cent 
counter, lured by its color. I'm not saying but 
that you might break things I'd cry over. Please 
don't." 

Swift as sunshine after rain, a smile flashed over 
Helen's face. “ Only ten cents ? Oh, goody ! I 
was afraid it was dollars and dollars. But, do you 
know, the more I think about it and try not to, 
the more things I seem to drop ! Mother says I'll 
outgrow it and meanwhile I must try to hold my- 
self together and^ look where I'm going and step 
high so as not to trip. But it's tiresome being pa- 
tient while you wait for yourself to grow up. 
Though I'm not half so cross as I was when I came, 
do you think I am ? " 

“ You have proved a first rate little nurse. I 
could ask no better." 

“ Have I, honestly ? I must write that to mother. 
Only I had to sort of pull it out of you, didn't I ? " 

Cousin Anne laughed. “ I shall write your 
267 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


mother this afternoon, myself, to tell her that I am 
on the up grade and to thank her for lending me 
a streak of her sunshine.” 

It’s all the fairy godmother with her funny 
little inside face,” said Helen humbly. When 
you once know about it you can’t catch a glimpse 
of yourself in a mirror without wondering how it 
looks and whether you’re doing all you can to make 
it pretty. Cousin Anne, for the longest while I’ve 
had a letter in my head all written to her. Do 
you suppose I might send it ? ” 

People have done such things, my dear.” 

But where should I direct ? Of course I’m not 
silly enough to write ‘ Fairy Godmother ’ and send 
it by United States mail, even if her letters do come 
postmarked and stamped and delivered by the 
R. F. D. man.” 

I don’t suppose it makes much difference where 
you post them, seeing that she is a fairy. Why 
not any hollow tree or handy stump, or even last 
year’s bird’s nest ? ” 

Helen’s eyes dwelt on Cousin Anne’s for a long 
inquiring minute. 

An hour afterward, almost too excited to talk, 
she dropped down by the invalid’s lounging chair. 

“ I wrote her,” she gasped, that I just adored 
knowing about her and how I loved her letters and 
the puzzle and what a dandy picnic we had, and I 
268 


THE WISH EXCHANGE 


posted the letter in — in that old oak the other side 
of the gardens. And a minute ago I went down 
and put my hand in and it^s gone — Cousin Anne, 
my letter is gone ! 

Gone I ” 

‘‘ Billy was up-stairs all the time,^^ Helen rushed 
on. I asked Molly. He’s not feeling very well, 
I think, but I didn’t stop to see what’s the matter. 
Anyway it wasn’t he who took it.” 

‘‘ She doesn’t lose time,” murmured Cousin Anne. 

Speaking of fairies, the postman stopped while 
you were at the Holbrooks’.” 

Helen pounced on the square, heavy envelope. 
Cousin Anne evidently meant to keep the fairy 
godmother’s counsels. 

For a long exquisitely tortured minute curiosity 
held back from satisfaction, while eyes crossed t’s 
and rounded every quirky flourish. Just to touch 
a fairy godmother’s letter was delight. The thrill 
caught Helen under the arm and prickled up and 
down her spine until she was all one tingling an- 
ticipation. 

And then And then 

The letter began without any inky salutations. 

“ Book of reed, and book of horn, 

Apple seed and apple thorn — 

By this tune, 

Magic rune, 

269 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Chanted once, chanted twice, 

Chanted faster, chanted thrice 
Speak me fair, tell me tme 
What for me the fates will do. 

Did you ever play pretend ? Did you ever sit 
down with an armful of wants and poke them 
over and over with your thoughts and wonder, 
supposing a fairy should come along and grant 
you three wishes, which wants you could possibly 
get along without? But of course you have. 
Hasn’t everybody ? Only — now — it — has — come 
— true. Don’t jump. Didn’t suppose such things 
happened nowadays? Certainly they happen, 
when a person has wit enough to put on her 
spectacles and read her godmother’s writing. 

Only — he careful ! I am shaking my finger at 
you, goddaughter. Be careful. And obey the 
rules of the game. 

I. You may wish for a hoop of pearls set with 
diamonds if you like, but you must not wish for 
the moon. 

II. You may ask for the plaything of a day or 
the satisfaction of a lifetime, a hat for your head 
or clothing for your heart, food for your body or 
bread for your brain, but you may not wish over 
and you must not cry, if when you get it you do 
not like what you have wished for. 

III. You may date a wish as you wind an 

270 


THE WISH EXCHANGE 


alarm clock, set to go off when you choose and for 
whom you choose at any time within five years. 

“ IV. When you have fixed on three wishes, 
find a thorn apple tree standing alone on a hillside 
sloping to the east. Walk three times around the 
tree chanting the rhyme that heads this letter, 
‘ Book of reed and book of horn,’ etc. Sitting un- 
der the north branches write your wishes as briefly 
and plainly as possible on a sheet of pink paper. 
Enclose this in a pink envelope addressed 

Wish Exchange 

Fairyland 

Department of Godmothers 

Post it under a flat stone which you will find three 
paces to the south of the tree. Walk away with- 
out looking back and do not return to the tree un- 
til you receive notification of the receipt of your 
wishes. 

If to-day were five years from now, and you 
had had all the things you are hoping for in that 
time, which three would you be least willing to 
have done without?” 

The breath whistled between Helen’s teeth. 

“ If,” she gasped, “ if it wasn’t to-day at all, and 

I’d had everything — everything — that I’m hoping 
271 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


for in five whole years But what am I hop- 

ing for ? I^m expecting to eat and drink and wear 
clothes and have a reasonable amount of fun and 
finish high school and — and have mother well 
again, of course — that really comes first. And I^m 
hoping — oh, I’m hoping to earn a lot of money 
and go to college and get things for mother and 
learn how to keep my temper and not to trip and 
smash and drop things. Or am I expecting some 
of those things and hoping some of the others? I 
don’t have to hope mother will get well, do I? 
Isn’t she surely going to ? And maybe I’m expect- 
ing not to be Crosspatch since the fairy godmoth- 
er’s letters began to come. 

And then — why, if I could have anything I 
wanted in five whole years, anything a fairy could 
give, I wouldn’t stop with things like that, I 
wouldn’t stop at all. There are millions of wants 
I’d have. I can’t think of ’em all at once, but I 
can feel ’em. I’d stand on the tiptoppest pyramid 
and watch the caravans crawl away over the des- 
ert Or does everything go by railroad now, 

Cousin Anne ? And I’d bury my hands in a great 
heap of diamonds and pearls and rubies and em- 
eralds just as you do in sand on the seashore and 
watch the trickles of flashing color run off my 
arms in little slithery streams of rainbow light. 
I’d fix up the house and give mother all she wants 
272 


THE WISH EXCHANGE 


right now and season tickets to everything that 
happens and a garden Oh, what a garden ! 

‘‘ The fairy godmother ought to have given you 
thirty wishes instead of three, said Cousin Anne. 

So far as her letter reads you can take the pyra- 
mids, if you want them more than something else. 
Or you might wish for the jewels, I suppose, and 
by selling them, get most of the other things.” 

A puckered forehead puzzled over this sugges- 
tion. “ That doesnT seem exactly what Billy calls 
^ on the square,’ does it ? ” 

“ Not exactly, but it is sometimes done. How- 
ever, I respect your judgment.” The shrewd eyes 
watched for a couple of minutes while deeper per- 
plexity clouded the girl’s face. What is the 
matter now ? ” 

“ I’m not quite sure ; but I’ve just thought 
maybe I ought not to really choose. Why, if I 
should choose as she says the things I want most, 
they’d be too big. Don’t you see how big they’d 
be? I love to pretend, and she makes it all seem 
so real I forget half the time that she’s not ” 

Stop ! ” cried Cousin Anne. “ Stop quickly be- 
fore you say anything you might be sorry for.” 

Helen swallowed hard. ^‘You know what I 
mean.” 

Yes, I know what you mean.” 

When I just think of the letters, I could write 

273 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


anything — anything. It’s all the beautifallestgame 
that ever was dreamed of. But sometimes my mind 
goes poking around to what must be back of the let- 
ters, though I try not to let it, and then Oh, 

Cousin Anne, oughtn’t I maybe to think of that 
part, now ? ” 

If you do, you won't play out the game.” 

No,” said Helen sadly. And I want to play 
out the game.” 

She evidently wants it, too,” said Cousin Anne. 
“ Besides, do you call it playing fair when you 
don’t play as hard as you can ? What if you were 
to pretend a few little trumpery third-rate wishes 
are the big first choices she has asked for? ” 

I wouldn’t be telling the truth,” said Helen 
honestly. 

You don’t know what answer she will make. 
Remember it is a game, after all.” 

The girl’s brow cleared. It is a game. And 
she doesn’t have to give me my wishes right out 
as I wish them. Maybe she’ll turn them into a 
whole lovely new set of surprises, some kind of 
play answers like the things in the puzzle, every- 
thing exactly like a real big thing, only small. So 
you think it’s all right for me to forget the part 
we’re not going to speak of and wish just as hard 
as I can ? ” 

“ I think it is the only square thing for you to 
274 


THE WISH EXCHANGE 


do. Meanwhile a person with such a responsibility 
on her shoulders needs dinner. You may serve 
mine here on the porch, Margaret.'' 

Dinner I Dinner ! How could anybody sit 
still long enough to eat dinner who had suddenly 
stepped into the shoes of Aladdin and whose brain 
kept conjuring up possibilities each more enchant- 
ing than the last ? Twice a particularly gorgeous 
thought jumped Helen out of her chair and sent 
her skipping around the room to do a dance in the 
corner before it let her come back again to — chicken 
or baked boots, raspberry shortcake or sugared 
grass ? — She really could not have told you what 
she was eating, as she sat there, her fork poised for 
long minutes of shining-eyed contemplation. It 
was a pity, for that dinner was one of Mrs. Higgins's 
best. 

Seething with ideas, Helen scampered out into 
the sunshine and flying through the gardens, 
whisked over the wall and threw both arms around 
the big glossy leaved oak with the scar on its bark 
and the secret in its heart, the oak where she had 
mailed her letter. Oh, Fairy Godmother ! " she 
cried, dear Fairy Godmother ! I'm all of a boil 
inside. Feel me bubble." 

Slipping down on the grass in the hiding-hole, 
she spread the letter on her knee. 

“ ^ A hat for my head, or clothing for my heart' 
275 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


— how should I set to work to wish the last, I 
wonder ? ‘ Food for my body or bread for my 

brain ’ — that might be college or travel or books 
— how I’d like a whole roomful of books ! Not 
one or two little measly cases or even shelves full 
of queer old theological things that you have in 
your house because your grandfather was a minis- 
ter, but real live ready books with folks in them. 
They’d go all around the room, yards and yards of 
them, and clear up to the ceiling, with little 
traveling step-ladders that you’d run up to reach 
the top shelves the way men do in a shoe place. 
Oh ! ” shutting her eyes with a sigh of delight, I 
can just feel myself running up one of those lad- 
ders. There’d be a fireplace and deep easy chairs 
and window-seats just built for an apple and a 
rainy day. And every single blessed thing I’ve 
got to do is to wish for it ! ” 

Through the head tilted against the oak coursed 
many visitors. They came fairly treading on each 
other’s heels, small whimsies squeezing in be- 
tween big dazzling schemes that awed Helen by 
their very sumptuousness. How could Crosspatch 
Thayer ever have thought of them ? One minute 
she was saying, Every Easter for five years I 
could go to Sunday-school in a new hat and suit 
the way the other girls do.” The next, through 
dreamily narrowed eyelids she was watching 
276 


THE WISH EXCHANGE 

mother, Floyd, Phillis, herself, and the twins set 
foot on their very own ship that was to bear them 
around the world. Just then a meddlesome breeze 
flipped the fairy godmother’s letter off* her knee 
and whisked it across the grass and out on to the 
path that led away from the locked door. 

‘‘ You must not wish for the moon.” From the 
middle of the second page of the captured sheet the 
words challenged her attention. 

“ Having your own ship isn’t having the moon,” 
she argued stoutly. Robert Louis Stevenson had 
his, and lots of people do now. Would wishing 
mother was well be wishing for the moon ? What 
is the moon ? ” She pondered. “ The moon — 
the moon — must be — something — something you 
couldn’t possibly get by wishing — or working, 
either. If I wished for a kind of medicine I knew 
would be good for mother, that would be all right. 
But I couldn’t ask the fairy godmother to make 
her well any more than I could wish for a lovely 
day to-morrow. Only God makes lovely days and 
well mothers. But I wish He would hurry with 
mine.” 

Back through the gardens frisked Helen, and on 
through a cedar hedge. Skirting a fleld where the 
waves of clover lay in long red swathes under the 
knife, she scrambled over a gray stone wall and 
came on the thorn tree where she thought she re- 
277 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


membered one. Knee-deep in grass as yet un- 
touched by the mowers, it swept the ground with 
its southern branches and lifted those to the north 
quite far enough for a person to sit under them 
comfortably. A mid afternoon shadow ventured 
down the slope. It all might have been made on 
purpose to fit the fairy godmother’s directions. And, 
yes, there was a flat stone three paces to the south. 

Apple thorn,” cried Helen, you are all ready 
now. But how out of all the things I want can I 
ever decide on three ? ” 

Her brain stuffy with the tag ends of day 
dreams, her will paralyzed by its wealth of oppor- 
tunity, she stared at the tree. Then she nodded. 
“ Good-bye, thorn apple. I’ll come again to-mor- 
row. Now I feel as though I’d had a Thanksgiv- 
ing dinner of ideas and I’ve got to go away and 
shake myself till they settle. Besides, I’m sure — 
almost — that there’s a card up at the house I 
haven’t read. Think of being so busy you haven’t 
time to read all your own mail ! ” 

There was a card. The handwriting was strange, 
cramped and round and painstaking, but more pre- 
cise than the twins’ and How funny I It 

was addressed Red Top Castle.” 

Helen smiled as she read : 

Mister Dooley is wel, I thank you. He catches 
278 


THE WISH EXCHANGE 


mice. A bad kitty chases him somtimes. Her 
name is Gold Drop. Ted says he wil come if you 
want him. I hope the oger is gon now. 

Ellen Babbitt.’^ 


The little duck ! I’ll go see Billy this minute. 
At least ril go see how he feels. For I’m so 
tangled up now I can’t make head or tail of what 
I want to wish.” 

In the road beyond the wall, Wiggy prone on 
the grass behind him, Harold sobbed bitterly. 

Him gone,” he wailed into her comforting 
arms. Him not wait for baby.” 

Who’s gone, sweetheart ? I wouldn’t cry 
about it. Let’s go find Billy.” 

Him gone.” 

Billy ? ” 

Harold nodded like a mandarin. “ Billy gone 
— gone on car. Baby ” 

'' But where, darling ? Where did Billy go ? ” 

A chubby finger pointed up the road. 

Helen hugged him. You old sweetheart! 
That isn’t the way to the station. I guess you 
made a mistake.” 

Choo choo car,” asserted Harold positively. 

Into the girl’s memory fiashed recollection that 
Cousin Anne had said trains sometimes stopped at 
Jones’ Crossing. 

279 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


‘‘When did Billy go?’^ she implored. “Just 
now, Harold ? 

More nods. He plunged into rapid talk. 

She sprang to her feet and sped up the road, fol- 
lowed by renewed wails from the twice deserted 
Harold. Why she went or where she could not 
have clearly told, least of all what she would do 
when she got there. Fear laid its whip across her 
shoulders, whimpering incredulous nightmarish 
fear. 

“ He never, never would, she told herself even 
while she ran. 

Sarah Stuart, swinging between two pails of ber- 
ries, nodded as they met. “ He’s j ust ahead. Passed 
me only five minutes ago,” she called. 

Panting, straining, with a sob in her throat and 
an ache in her side, Helen struggled on. Surely 
she could think of something to stop him. i 

At the top of the hill beyond the strawberry 
patch she halted. Below a train waited at Jones’ 
Crossing. Under her eyes a figure in a white cap 
swung aboard and with a puff of smoke the train 
crawled on through the valley. 

He was gone ! Billy was gone ! 


280 


CHAPTER XVI 


ORDER NO. 9123 

When in doubt, ask.’^ Over and over the 
words beat through Helen’s brain. They said 
themselves in Mrs. Holbrook’s pleasant, ripply 
voice and then they wandered into Molly’s lovely 
lilting speech. They cajoled, commanded, teased, 
besought, argued, thundered. 

“ But the dryad only had to ask something 
about herself,” returned Helen miserably, and 
straightway tried to forget the four persistent little 
words by wishing the most extravagant wishes she 
could think of. By rights such wishes ought to 
have rioted through her imagination in fancy 
tickling splendors ; instead they looked like 
draggled rags and tasted like dust on her tongue. 

Oh, dear ! ” she sighed, “ why, when you’re 
having the loveliest time you ever had in your life 
does something have to come along and spoil it 
all? Even if I wished Billy back, it wouldn’t be 
the same as if he had never run away, for not 
even the fairy godmother could bring him home 
to-night.” 


281 


HELEN OFER-THE-WALL 


Couldn’t she ? ” asked Cousin Anne. 

Helen jumped. Was I talking aloud? What 
did I say ? ” 

“ Nothing very intelligible. You scowled until 
I began to tremble in my crocheted shoes ” — Helen 
put up two fingers to her forehead — and you 
said, ‘ Not even the fairy godmother could bring 
him home to-night.’ Were you pining for Jo, my 
dear ? His sister’s wedding is likely to absorb him 
till the sleeper leaves the Junction at eleven 
o’clock. No, I don’t think he can possibly get 
here before midnight.” 

Cousin Anne, if you had promised a person 
that you wouldn’t tell something when you didn’t 
want to promise at all, only the person made you, 
and then the person went and did it after all, and 
you knew it and thought you ought to tell, only 
you didn’t want to do that either, what could you 
do?” 

Unless it was very important, I’d drop it,” 
said Cousin Anne. 

But if it was — oh, desperately important? ” 

Cousin Anne smiled whimsically. I would 
imagine that I was lost in a house with a hundred 
rooms and not a single window. I hadn’t so 
much as a cracker in my pocket, and the pantries 
were all locked, and there was a storm coming up. 
I would think, as I groped from room to room, 
282 


ORDER NO. 912J 

feeling a way in the pitch blackness, whom of all 
the people I knew I would rather see sitting over 
a fire eating bread and jam when I turned the 
next door-knob. Then I would go to that person 
and put my case frankly and ask advice.'^ 

But if the person you^d ratherest see couldnT 
see you ? ’’ 

Then I would try the next best, always pro- 
vided I really would care to see her if I were in 
the predicament mentioned. If the fire and the 
bread and jam would serve quite as well without 
her company — his preferred, if you like — I’d 
worry along by myself.” 

“ Thank you, Cousin Anne.” The girl slipped 
out of her chair. ‘‘ I think, if you don’t mind. 
I’ll go over to the Holbrooks’ for a minute.” 

Through glimmering lanes of ghostly flowers, 
sweet odors flocking thickly out of the dusk, 
Helen fled toward the wall. She must go fast be- 
fore her courage failed, but oh, how could a night 
be so lovely when you had to do a thing like this? 
A light burned in the kitchen at “ Gray Shingles.” 
As she went up the path, the air, heavy with a 
rich chocolate smell, betokened fudge. Molly was 
singing while she scrubbed her pans. Pausing 
outside on the grass, her heart a hot lump in her 
throat, Helen watched her. She thought she had 
never realized till then quite how capable and 
283 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


sensible and utterly trustable Molly looked. Then 
she opened the screen door. 

“ Where have you been all the afternoon ? ” 
called Molly, turning at her step. “ Why, child, 
what^s the matter ! '' 

All the ways Helen had thought of beginning 
flew out of her head. Words issued from her 
mouth. She heard them curiously, as though an- 
other girl were talking ; she herself seemed to 
have no command over these stumbling, stammer- 
ing, choking sentences. 

Harold told me — and I — I saw him. He took 

the train at Jones’ Crossing. But I promised 

Only maybe I didn’t promise not to tell after he’d 
gone. Anyway I can’t keep it all night. I can’t I 

I can’t! You’ll know what to do Oh, 

Molly, won’t he ever ever come back ? ” 

Who come back ? Why, Helen, don’t cry I 
Tell me all about it.” 

“ Billy,” sobbed Helen. And I won’t cry. I 
didn’t mean to. Only I can’t bear you should 
feel badly — and your mother and all. Maybe if 

I’d told before But I promised, you know, 

and ” 

Billy 1 ” 

The next minute Helen felt herself drawn out of 
the kitchen into the cool still dusk. Molly’s arms 
were around her, Molly’s voice spoke quietly in 
284 


( 





ORDER NO. ()I 23 

her ear. On the low stone step with the soothing 
fingers of night on her face and Molly’s arm 
over her shoulders, the whole story came out, 
gaspingly, with halts for sobs, but clearly and in- 
telligibly. 

When she had done, Molly spoke one sentence, 
low and emphatic. “ Billy,” she said, ‘‘ ought to 
be spanked.” 

She did not wring her hands nor cry nor be- 
wail the distress of her father and mother, or do 
any of the things Helen had expected. She only 
repeated thoughtfully and quite firmly, Billy 
ought to be spanked.” 

Yes,” Helen agreed, but — but what good 

would that do — ^now?” 

Molly’s arm tightened around her shoulders. 

Billy loves to tease,” she said. 

A door opened in the kitchen behind them and 
the older girl drew the younger swiftly out of the 
circle of light. 

“ Where are you, my girl ? ” called Mr. Hol- 
brook’s voice. ‘‘ That you, Helen ? Good I Come 
and have fudge. It’s melting like snow on the 
front porch.” 

“ Pretty soon, father,” shielding Helen’s tear- 
wet face. We’re going to walk down the road a 
bit now.” 

“ You mean,” Helen whispered as they slipped 
285 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


out of the gate, you mean — Billy — hasn’t — run 
away ? ” 

‘‘ I mean he had an errand at the Junction 
which he refused to put off till to-morrow. He is 
going to drive home with Jo. Incidentally I 
think he had designs on Jo’s sister’s wedding 
cake. That ticket — naughty boy ! — was bought 
for mother to use. But though Billy is capable of 
trying to make you think he was going, I don’t 
believe he would deliberately set to work to con- 
vince you he had gone.” 

Silently Helen reviewed the afternoon. I did 
that,” she acknowledged. I added two and two 
and made them five.” 

The easiest thing in the world to do outside 
an arithmetic,” commented Molly. Don’t regret 
having told me. You did just right. I really 
don’t think Billy is plotting anything desperate. 
Though he is stubborn, he is fairly reasonable too, 
and he gives in long before he lets anybody know 
it. You can’t drive him a step, but he will go 
miles with you if you handle him right.” 

Helen sighed. I was a goose, a stupid little 
goose.” 

Molly kissed her. Nice little goose ! The very 
nicest little goose I know.” 

Softer than any rose petal, that kiss lay on 
Helen’s cheek all the way home. On account of it 
286 


ORDER NO. gi2S 

a large patch of skin remained unwashed that 
night. Thereby she was enabled to preserve the 
spot still warm and sweet when she climbed into 
bed and lay down carefully on the other cheek, 
inviting dreams. They came. That is, one came 
after Helen had turned over impartially half a 
dozen times in her sleep until she must have 
rubbed the kiss quite off. In the dream she 
wished for a pink china dog, and when she got it 
the dog opened its mouth like Balaam^s ass and 
barked that Billy never came home. 

But he did, though Molly, whose heart must 
have been less confident than her words, sat up till 
long after midnight watching for him. Helen 
had barely stuck her nose out-of-doors the next 
morning when she saw him bounding up the 
path. 

“ Moll thinks I ought to be whacked,^’ he said. 

But I say, Seesaw, what a swallow youVe got I 
Just like a girl to scare herself blue and then for- 
get all her promises I 

You hadn't any business to make me promise, 
Billy Holbrook ! " 

“Just because a fellow has the toothache," 
grumbled Billy, “ and trots off where he can get 
the old thing fixed is a poor reason for " 

“Did you go to the Junction to have a tooth 
pulled, Billy Holbrook?" 

287 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


“ Sure. It had been aching like the dickens all 
day and I '' 

There was a whirl of skirts, and Billy stood 
open-mouthed on an empty porch. 

“ I won’t imagine one single other thing,” Helen 
told herself some hours later. Here I’ve been 
and maligned Billy, and it was just my imagina- 
tion. I’m a penny-poor girl and I’ve booked a lot 
of dollar-rich wishes that it would take a fortune 
bigger than Aladdin’s most likely to carry out, and 
that’s all my imagination, too. The fairy said 
which three of the things I was hoping for in the 
next five years did I want most ? She didn’t say 
I’d have to die without getting any but those 
three, and she didn’t say to choose the gorgeousest 
things I could think of or to choose for some other 
girl. I’ve got to climb a pyramid some time, but 
I’d just as soon think about it a while longer. And 
I don’t absolutely have to own in five years all the 
books I’m ever going to possess. Besides I never, 
never, never could decide among all the ideas I’ve 
had. Each one seems so much beautifuller than 
the last, and then another comes along and that’s 
lovelier yet, and I don’t know whether it really is 
lovelier or whether it’s just that it’s the last. Now 
I see why people in stories make such stupid 
wishes. They think and think and the longer 
they think the more woolly their brains feel, the 
288 


ORDER NO. gi2j 

way mine does now, and pretty soon their heads 
begin to spin like a merry-go-round and they get 
dizzy and clutch at anything, and most likely it’s 
a wish they wish afterward they hadn’t wished. 
You’ve either got to wish right off before you think, 
or else you’ve got to wait till you’ve stopped think- 
ing. So I’m just going back to the things I was sure 
I wanted before the fairy godmother’s letter came. 
Maybe I’m wasting wishes, but I don’t dare choose 
among those splendiferous schemes ; they’re too 
new.” 

When Helen was a size or two smaller than the 
twins, she had spent many hours practicing somer- 
saults in order that she might turn them as beauti- 
fully as Floyd. You ended by scrambling to your 
feet, she remembered, while the blood ran down 
into your toes with exactly this dizzily unfamiliar 
sense of familiarity. You were right side up again 
but you were not as yet quite at home that way. 
What was it she had told the genius of the house in 
the grim, black wood when he had said, Choose,” 
that first week at Red Top ” ? Oh, but those 
wishes didn’t fit at all now ! Still, recollecting her 
answers might help to steady her whirling head. 

But if you think that, outside of a story you 
make up about yourself and which you don’t ex- 
pect will come true, even when you have narrowed 
your range as Helen had narrowed hers, it is an al- 
289 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


together easy matter to decide on the three things 
you most wish to have happen in the next five 
years, try imagining you are lying on your back on 
a gentle hillslope with a single white cloud daw- 
dling across the sky above you. Would you have 
dared to say, Before that cloud is out of sight I 
shall make my choices ” ? 

If the cloud had been less lazy I am not sure 
that Helen could have done it. The difficulty was 
not in naming one wish ; it lay in finding three 
that would match and keep their color. 

Some things you think you want fade while 
you’re trying to fancy how they’ll look at the end 
of five years,” she reflected shrewdly. 

Sorting, throwing out, putting back again — 
three is so few when it seems as though you must 
have five, or at least four — she narrowed the list. 
And then all at once an idea struck her. You 
will readily see that she had been moving in its 
direction more or less for some time, otherwise she 
would probably never have thought of it. Ideas 
do not have actually to be new to seem so. This 
idea made the problem very much broader. It 
was simply a discovery that the fairy godmother 
had left out of her letter two words which she 
might have put in. She had not said what you 
want to happen to you, but just happen, a wholly 
different proposition. 


290 


ORDER NO. gi 23 

Now it is quite possible without being a prig or 
a goody-goody kind of person, of which obviously 
Helen was neither, to take a lively interest in 
more than your own affairs. Helen could not re- 
member the time when she had not looked forward 
to Floyd’s going to college. And had not Phil 
made her the most radiantly attired paper dolls 
that twelve-year-old ever had, dolls with hats and 
gowns of the latest mode that went on and came 
off and were kept in beautiful hand-painted trunks 
of no more thickness than two sheets of water color 
paper? And Phil wanted to study art. No, 
plainly this was a family problem. For when you 
belong to a family, Helen reflected, a real family 
like the Thayers, you want the things the others 
want almost as much as they want them them- 
selves. 

What a pig youVe been ! ” she admonished 
a grasshopper walking up a nodding grasshead. 

As if you’d have the face to go to college your- 
self if Floyd and Phil hadn’t had their turns 
first I ” 

Then she turned over, dug her elbows into the 
clover, seized her head in her hands, and thought. 

The cloud balancing on the blue tip of a hill 
saw the beginning of the incantation — 

“ Book of reed and book of horn 

Apple seed and apple thorn 

291 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Deliberately the rite proceeded. On pink paper 
bought at Mr. Frink’s store, assisted by Cousin 
Anne’s most self-contained fountain pen, Helen 
wrote in letters that wobbled a little in spite of 
herself : 

“ I wish : — 

“ I. To have Floyd go to college. 

“ II. Art school for Phillis. 

III. A chance for me to earn money. 

N. B. I mean now before I am grown up, and 
in considerable sums. 

Helen Thayer.” 

Hesitating a minute, she added another line. 

P. S. You will know when these wishes ought 
to come true.” 

After that she sealed and addressed the en- 
velope and, prying up the flat stone, slid the letter 
underneath. 

Ugh I it’s all earwiggy ! 

Maybe the fairy godmother likes earwigs — 
Molly would,” she added as she climbed the gray 
stone wall without once looking back. I wish I 
could have thought of some big thing for mother, 
but I’ve half a notion she would almost as soon 
have these. Last spring she said if Floyd could 
only go to father’s college she’d never worry again 
about how we were coming out. I didn’t know 
292 


ORDER NO, gi2S 

before that she ever worried a bit. Oh, dear I I 
ought to have put in the name of the college. 
Well, it’s done now and I can’t get the letter back. 
But I guess the fairy godmother won’t make any 
mistake.” 

At the hedge she found Billy investigating a 
hole in the ground and prepared to open peace 
overtures with a couple of lollipops. 

^‘What made you run so fast this morning ? ” 
he demanded, when the overtures were well under 
way, removing the lollipop for purposes of conver- 
sation. “ One minute you’re a perfect lady, steady 
as a clock. The next — Z-z-z-p-ping ! ” Billy il- 
lustrated graphically. 

Helen removed her lollipop also. If I’d 
stayed,” she said concisely, I’d have boxed your 
ears. Where would the perfect lady have been 
then?” 

Billy ducked. Gone I ” mimicking Harold. 
“All gone. Just the same. Seesaw, if you ever 
want to have any fun running away, don’t get 
your confiding parent to hand you a ticket of 
leave. That was where I made my mistake.” 

“ What do you mean, Billy ? ” 

“ Dad was so ready to help me olf, I didn’t see 
much use in going.” 

“Then you told him?” 

“Told him? Isn’t it etiquette to prime your 
293 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


family when you’re expecting to be out nights? 
Says I, ' Father, I can’t quite see things your way, 
etc., etc., etc.’ Says he, ‘ Thinking of leaving us, 
son ? ’ ‘ Something of the sort, sir,’ says I. ^ It 

costs money to travel, Billy,’ says he. ‘ How much 
are you worth?’ ^ Not so much just now as I’m 
expecting to be later,’ says I. ‘ We’ll be sorry to 
lose you,’ says dad, plus a few more items not for 
publication. ^ But when your conscientious scru- 
ples get the better of you, come to me and I’ll 
start you out with a nest-egg in your pocket.’ I 
tell you. Seesaw, it somehow took the taste out of 
my mouth — and me as perky as a cricket half an 
hour before. Dad’s a scorcher, all right.” 

Helen sucked in silence. “ What about your 
place? ” she asked at last. “ That position where 
a fellow could keep himself going and a little 
more.” 

“ What position ? Say, Miss Over-the-Wall, it 
would pay you once in a while to hear exactly 
what’s said to you.” 

She reddened. Now I suppose you think you’re 
going to get out of ever having told me you had a 
position at all.” 

I certainly am.” 

How ? ” 

Because I never did tell you.” 

0-o-o-oh ! ” 


294 


ORDER NO. gi2j 

Pop-eyes ! 

Helen sat up very straight. Billy Holbrook, 
do you mean to claim now that day before yester- 
day you never said anything about any place at 
all ? ” 

“ Sure, I told you about a job. Didn^t say 
whose it was, did I ? As a matter of fact, it was 
Foley’s. He’s been holding it down for three weeks 
now. Likes it first-rate, Foley does.” 

Absorbed in his teasing, Billy was unprepared 
for his companion’s headlong plunge across the 
lawn. What was the matter with her now? Then 
he saw the postman’s gray uniform jogging up the 
drive, and he took a couple of kangaroo leaps and 
caught up with her. 

“ That was a little too bad of me, day before yes- 
terday, Seesaw, I’ll admit. Never dreamed you’d 
believe it. Hang it all, maybe I did too. You’re 
not expecting a letter, are you ? ” 

No,” said Helen. I’m not honestly. Only 
you never can tell, you know.” 

But of course there couldn’t be an answer as soon 
as this, she assured herself, even if Cousin Anne 
were in the secret. Only it seemed a pity to leave 
that pretty pink envelope long in company with 
the earwigs, and she had such a startling way of 
forestalling your expectations, had the fairy god- 
mother. The girl’s hands closed eagerly over the 
295 


HELEN OFER-THE-WALL 

budget of mail. Three letters, five circulars, and a 
slim brown package for Cousin Anne ; two post- 
cards for Mrs. Higgins ; and one letter, rather fat 
and mussy, for Miss Helen Thayer. There was no 
mistaking the twins’ responsibility for the address, 
done turn and turn about, each twin taking every 
other line. ‘‘ Dere Nel,” ran the square cut salu- 
tation. We hav deecidid to rite you a leter,” 
proceeded the round scrawly first sentence, wander- 
ing successfully in and out of a very black blot. 
For the inside was, like the outside of the letter, a 
cooperative venture, very jaunty indeed as to spell- 
ing, that line not being the twins’ strongest, but 
packed full of news. Tipsy Cottontail had en- 
countered the Pages’ “ Major ” and come off so 
victorious that Major ” did not dare to show his 
pointer nose on the Thayer side of his own yard ; 
the Drakes had sent in raspberry ice yesterday, and 
mother had sat up two hours ; and they wished 
Nell would come home soon and tell them stories. 

Afekshunettly, Ted and Tess.” 

“ Bless their old hearts I ” cried Helen, a sud- 
den spasm of homesickness clutching her under 
the arm. How I’d like to hug them this min- 
ute ! ” 

There’s something doing where they’re ’round. 
I’ll bet,” Billy commented. But say, that wasn’t 
the letter you were looking for.” 

296 


ORDER NO. gi2j 

How’d you know ? 

I’m not blind in both eyes. F. G. up to her 
tricks again ? ” 

I don’t think it’s polite for you to talk like 
that about her.” 

Talk like what ? Can’t she stand a little r. 1. ? 
R. 1. is short for restful language. We all use it in 
summer — eases our mouths.” 

‘‘ What do you do the rest of the year? ” 

Talk on stilts.” 

I’d like to hear you.” 

But you can’t— not unless you catch me after 
September the fifteenth. Is it another picnic ? ” 

Is what another picnic ? ” 

The F. G.’s new stunt. Don’t be a snail.” 

No, oh, no. But I don’t exactly know what it’s 
going to be. That’s why I’m perfectly crazy to find 
out.” 

'' Keep your hair on,” admonished Billy. No 
lunatics in mine, please.” 

It was hard work. The postman’s sorrel nag 
meandered up the drive three times before he 
brought anything to relieve Helen’s curiosity. 
The minute her eyes sighted the pale pink envelope, 
however, she knew it had come, though the hand- 
writing, slim and fragile and backward slanting, 
was utterly unlike the fairy godmother’s. Tersely 
businesslike, the words stood out oddly against the 
297 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 

dim tracery of flowers and buds that covered the 
paper. 

Wish Exchange 
Fairyland, 

“ Department of Godmothers, July 9, 19 — 

Thanks for your order of the 8th inst., 
which will have our careful attention as soon as it 
can be reached. 

Should you find it necessary to refer to this 
order, in writing, please mention No. 9123. 

Yours very truly, 

“ Wish Exchange.’^ 

“Oh, dear gasped Helen. “It sounds — why, 
it sounds as if they might take all summer I 


298 


CHAPTER XVII 


WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 

Luckily the Wish Exchange did not take all 
summer to reach Order No. 9123. There might 
have been very little left of Helen, if it had. In- 
stead, three days after the first, another of those 
pink envelopes stuck a blushing corner out of the 
bunch of commonplace white and gray rectangles 
directed to Cousin Anne. This was a longer envel- 
ope than the other, and therefore much more 
portentous looking. Helen forced herself to slit 
the end neatly with a hair ornament from Enosh- 
ima that Cousin Anne had given her, a fat little 
fish tipping a slim ivory stick. Cousin Anne had 
recommended the fish for such uses, and as he was 
very new to her Helen thought this a thrilling 
moment to christen him. But it is undeniable 
that the fish was slow. 

Two long slips of yellow paper and a third of 
blue fluttered to the floor as she drew out the few 
formal words, beginning Dear Madam : Enclosed 
please find,” and ending as before, '' Very truly 
yours. Wish Exchange.” A glance sufficed to 

299 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


show that the point was not here. She bent for 
the yellow slips. 

With her tongue tucked away like a lumpy 
caramel in her cheek Helen studied the first, her 
eyes growing bigger and more jubilant every sec- 
ond. It was a sight draft drawn on the Third 
National Bank of Fairyland for an art course made 
payable to Phillis Townsend Thayer, signed and 
countersigned in half a dozen places by the most 
piquant and fascinating names — Robin Goodfellow, 
Tickle Feathertop, John Quille Greenslip, Flutter 
Flittermouse, and the like. Helen laughed aloud 
as she read some of them. But Robin Goodfellow 
reassured her. He seemed to be the president, and 
she knew him already by reputation. 

If you think this information was absorbed all 
at once it is plain you have never received any 
such drafts. After the first reading Helen could 
not to save her life have told you that Tickle Feath- 
ertop^s name was signed above the tiny word treas- 
urer in the lower left-hand corner. It took five 
readings and frequent references to the second yel- 
low slip to put her in possession of the facts, but 
then she could have taken an examination on 
those checks and passed perfectly with her eyes 
shut. 

The second slip read exactly like the first ex- 
cept that it said, ‘‘ Pay to the order of Floyd 
300 


WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 


Thayer — one college education/^ and pricked in 
red dots in two places were the words, “ Not more 
than five.” That made Helen laugh again. 

I guess Floyd won’t want more than five col- 
lege educations,” she said aloud. “ But how un- 
der the sun shall I cash them ? ” 

It looks to me as though Floyd and Phillis 
will have to do that,” returned Cousin Anne. 
“ Are there no directions in the letter ? ” 

Not a word. It doesn’t say anything really 
except politenesses.” 

That seems rather queer,” mused Cousin Anne. 
Perhaps I’ll get a letter from the fairy god- 
mother telling me what to do,” Helen suggested. 

Yes, that must be it. Cousin Anne, I feel ex- 
actly the way a boy at home did who went to 
Washington last spring and in the treasury they 
let him hold forty million dollars in his two hands 
— paper money, you know. He told Phil it might 
as well have been so much scratch paper for all the 
difference he noticed. Here I’ve got Floyd’s col- 
lege and Phil’s art course right in my ten fingers,” 
brandishing the checks, “ and I can’t feel ’em a 
bit. I suppose I’ll just have to wait till I see 
Floyd packing his trunk. Then maybe it will 
seem real.’^ 

“ Are you intending to write him ? 

“ Write Floyd ? No, indeed ! He’d only laugh 
301 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


and tell me to run along with my string of little 
fishes, and use the check, maybe, to light the 
kitchen fire with.” 

“ Rather a costly squib.” 

‘‘Yes, wouldn’t it be? Oh, Cousin Anne, you 
do play so beautifully ! You don’t say I’m silly 

and gullible and — and But everything she 

has done so far has had something real about it. 
The fairy godmother hasn’t slipped up on a single 
thing. You don’t think she would begin now, do 
you?” 

“ I can’t advise you on that point, my dear. 
You will have to use your own faith and run your 
own risks, or ” Cousin Anne paused ex- 

pressively. “ As you say, she has proved trust- 
worthy enough so far.” 

“ She’s a darling ! ” cried Helen, “ a perfect 
darling. Only these are such big things, and I 

don’t see But there I I’m not going to try 

to see. When I use my mind and stand outside 
myself and look at myself, Cousin Anne, I feel 
like a perfect idiot to think for the teeniest second 
they could possibly come true. But I’m going to 
play I think so, just for fun. Something lovely 
will happen, anyway. I don’t care if I am an idiot. 
I shall believe in my fairy godmother ! ” 

With this declaration Helen reached for the blue 
slip. It bore the Roman numeral III in the upper 
302 


WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 


left-hand corner and otherwise was blank save for 
two names written in the slight backhand of the 
Wish Exchange’s amanuensis. 

Frederick and Emilie Parsons/’ read Helen 
slowly. I never even heard of them.” 

“ Freddy Parsons and little Em ! ” Cousin 
Anne exclaimed. What does she want you to 
do about them ? ” 

Helen handed over the slim blue slip. There’s 
not a word of explanation. Do you suppose it’s 
another puzzle? And who are Freddy Parsons 
and little Em ? ” 

Cousin Anne studied the slip. “Philosophers 
have observed that queer things happen in this 
world, my dear. As when in Shanghai you run 
into a friend whom you thought dairy-farming in 
New Hampshire — actually the most likely meet- 
ing in the world when you come to investigate it. 
Fred and Emilie Parsons ? They are two little 
friends of mine. Emilie is, I think, about the 
age of your twins, Freddy a year younger. Their 
mother is dead and their father builds railroads in 
South America. They live in a big prim old- 
fashioned house with a small prim no-fashioned 
aunt, who tries to understand them but is not built 
on their lines. Lately I believe she has given up 
trying. Perhaps she thinks they are not worth 
while. But they are, for they are the quaintest, 

303 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


most fanciful, forlornest, lonesomest little pair it 
has ever given me a heartache to see — children 
without a playfellow in the world except each 
other, and closets full of expensive toys and a 
queer kind of creature they have made up for 
themselves and christened, * The Tortail ’ — tell me 
why, if you can. ‘ The Tortail ’ lives in the grove 
behind the house, and from an excursion there 
Freddy and Em come home half scared out of 
their small wits. 

“ I call her ‘ little Em^ because, though older 
than Freddy, she is half a head shorter, a frail tiny 
creature, the sight of whom makes you want to 
pick her up and run away into the middle of a 
big buttercup meadow and there sit down and hug 
her, but acquaintance with whom proves that you 
never could do it without her consent. I have a 
great respect for little Em, but I abominate ‘ The 
Tortail.' So does Freddy, though it fascinates 
him. He is alwa^^s teasing Em to tell him stories 
about it, after which he shivers half the night 
through, fearful lest it should crawl in the window. 
‘ The Tortail ' bullies him and he bullies little Em 
and both children are likely to die of lonesome- 
ness and the horrors for lack of something cheer- 
ful to take up their minds. Die is rather a strong 
word perhaps, but you can see for yourself what 
they need." 


304 


WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 


“ They ought to know their fairy godmother/^ 
suggested Helen. 

“ The very thing ! I wish they might fill their 
imaginations with a fairy godmother instead of 
that miserable Tortail. Their mother was a friend 
of mine, of Mrs. James and your mother too, a 
woman I dearly loved. So naturally I am inter- 
ested in her chicks. You will find their pictures 
in the top drawer of that desk.'’ 

Two small bored faces looked up from the card- 
board, the boy a little sulky, the girl a trifie 
haughty. 

They look exactly," Helen declared, as the 
twins did when mother insisted on taking them to 
the photographer's on their last birthday. The 
poor dears were so cross ! I had to tell them 
stories a whole hour that night to make them half- 
way happy enough to go to sleep." 

I am afraid there was nobody to tell Freddy 
and Em stories," said Cousin Anne. “ Perhaps 
they made them up, turn and turn about. The 
last time I visited at their house Freddy told me 
a marvelous tale of a grasshopper as big as a barn, 
who jumped a small hill at one hop. Yes, I cer- 
tainly think those children ought to know their 
fairy godmother." 

I like them." Helen still surveyed the photo- 
graph. I think I like them a lot. You might 

305 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


advise them to look for their fairy spectacles, 
Cousin Anne, only the funny thing about those is 
that a person never seems to know there are any 
spectacles till her fairy godmother says they are 
perched on her nose. I haven^t the least idea 
about mine except what she has told me, and 
that’s precious little. Is Emilie as stubborn as 
she looks ? ” 

Cousin Anne laughed. That expression came 
from her not fancying the photographer. She 
told me privately that he resembled a horse and 
she preferred four-legged horses to two-legged. 
Emilie can be a small donkey when she chooses. 
For instance, she took a fancy to sign herself ^ M. 
Parsons,’ — the letter, you know — when she first 
learned to print her name, and nothing induces 
her to change.” 

Cute youngster I But what can the fairy god- 
mother — I mean the Wish Exchange have meant 
by putting those names on this blue slip marked 
^ III ’ ? I want to earn money, and they name me 
two children ! Perhaps they mixed the papers in 
sending out several at once.” 

“ It might happen. Still, as your confidential 
adviser, since the fairy godmother seems to have 
given us a tip, I don’t dare counsel you to ignore 
it. Suppose you let me inquire into the matter.” 

So Helen danced away to thank the fairy god- 
306 


WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 


mother on a sheet of her prettiest paper. But 
though she set the words down hot right out of 
her heart, when she came to read them over they 
sounded cold and queer and not at all the way she 
had meant them. A second attempt and a third 
failed to better the matter. The fourth she pru- 
dently sealed without reading, reflecting that a 
person who knew so much about spectacles ought 
to be able to read between the lines. For that^s 
where most of my letter is,’’ she soliloquized as she 
posted it in the oak tree. “ I couldn’t seem to get 
it into the words.” 

Next came the important question of what to 
do with the checks. She might ask Cousin Anne 
to put them in the safe, but could she forego the 
pleasure of looking at them at least three times a 
day ? Besides, it was almost as necessary to keep 
watch of these yellow slips as it had been of the 
fairy godmother’s first letter ; if she did not see 
them often she might forget they were real. By 
day they could travel pinned inside her dress, 
though their crisp freshness would be better pre- 
served under the handkerchiefs in the top drawer 
of her dressing table. And since that was the 
place where you always read of people hiding 
things, perhaps nobody would think of actually 
looking in such a commonplace spot. Margaret 
was honest, she was sure. But what should she 

307 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


do if a robber appeared in the middle of the 
night and demanded her most valued possessions ? 

“ Have you discovered anything yet, Confiden- 
tial Adviser ? or, I suppose there’s no news 
about Freddy and Emilie Parsons,” she would re- 
mark importantly at least a quarter as often as 
she wanted to. The other three-quarters of the 
time the question died heroically on the tip of her 
tongue. Cousin Anne might find it monotonous. 
And the Confidential Adviser would reply, Not 
yet. But I think I have a clue upon which I can 
report before long.” Somewhere in the vicinity of 
the fourteenth inquiry a twinkle made its appear- 
ance deep in the keen eyes, and thereafter as- 
sociated persistently with the gravity and impor- 
tance. 

The absence of a letter from the fairy godmother 
was certainly queer. Not that the interval since 
her last was unwontedly long as yet, but Helen 
had expected a letter close on the heels of the 
checks, and it is always odd when what you ex- 
pect fails to happen. Did not the fairy godmother 
approve her choices ? Or was it her habit after 
launching them to leave business ventures entirely 
in the hands of the Wish Exchange ? When you 
come to think of it the possible explanations were 
bewilderingly many. Helen spent half an after-’) 
noon, when she might have been playing tennis 
308 


WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 


with Billy, hidden away in the nook under the 
wall considering the problem, and at the end of 
her thinking she was quite as far from under- 
standing the fairy ^godmother’s silence as at first. 

Which she probably doesn’t expect you to, 
silly I ” she told herself at last, picking up her 
racket. Fairy godmothers aren’t made to be 
understood. They wouldn’t be half so much fun 
if you could see right through them like a pane of 
glass. I wonder whether Billy still wants to play 
tennis.” 

Billy, as inquiry proved, had gone to the vil- 
lage. In his stead Mr. Holbrook gayly offered his 
services and kept Helen jumping on her side of the 
net. Thus it happened that she was not on the 
porch to intercept the afternoon postman, and a 
letter had to follow her over the wall and down 
the road to the neglected court which Billy had 
found and put in condition for summer play. It 
was not the letter at all. It bore the words 
Special Delivery,” underscored twice, written be- 
low a blazing line of two cent stamps. That was 
why it had not been allowed to lie quietly on the 
hall table at '' Red Top ” after the postman was 
through with it. 

At a glance Helen saw the letter was from 
Phillis. The sight of its emphatic red stamps 
frightened her almost into paralysis, but the read- 

309 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


ing sent her scurrying up the road toward Red 
Top as fast as two hasty legs could scamper. 

Phillis wrote that the doctor had ordered mother 
to the shore for a month or six weeks of ocean air. 
Phillis was to accompany her as companion, enter- 
tainer, and nurse, though the doctor did not lay 
much stress on the nursing part now. Meanwhile 
somebody must keep house for Floyd and the 
twins. Floyd might board, but it would cost al- 
most as much as he was earning at his delivery job 
for Grant and M3"ers, and mother refused to have 
the twins quartered on the neighbors. Cousin 
Anne seemed so much better, perhaps she could 
spare Helen soon. And she had written in such 
praise of Helen’s record at “ Red Top ” that mother 
had been delighted and had herself proposed the 
plan they wanted Helen to consider now. Could 
she come home and take care of Floyd and the 
twins while mother and Phillis were absent ? 

Just here, on her second round of the closely 
covered pages, the girl reached Cousin Anne’s chair 
on the porch, and with a little squeal dropped down 
beside her and began reading the letter aloud. 

“ ‘ Bridget will come over mornings to help 
you as she does me ’ — Bridget’s our old girl, the 
one we had before father died ; she dotes on 
mother ” — Helen interpolated. “ ‘ And perhaps 
we can get her to stay nights. She will if little 
310 


WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 

Pat behaves himself. He stole a ride in somebody^s 
machine last week when it tried to climb a tele- 
graph pole while the chauffeur caught forty 
winks. He was dead tired, poor man ! Had 
only slept six hours for two nights, they say, and 
the road was so smooth and straight he lost him- 
self in broad daylight. Pat is almost as good as 
new now. But I can see the idea of what he may 
do next worries mother, so I talk as though I 
thought this accident would surely keep him out 
of mischief for a while. 

^ Mrs. Page and Mrs. Loomis will look in often, 
of course. And it isn’t as though Floyd couldn’t 
be depended on. He is the nicest boy to help 
around the house. Mother says she thinks per- 
haps her illness was sent to show her what capable 
children she has. Even if Bridget can’t come she 
declares she will feel perfectly safe for you with 
Floyd in the house, and neighbors on both sides. 
Burglars know enough not to patronize us by this 
time. 

‘ I remember how eager you were to take my 
place here last month, so I am not afraid but that 
you will want to come, and I am sure you will get 
along finely.’ — Oho ! ” thought Helen. That’s 
not the way you talked last month, Phil. Maybe 
you’re trying on me the methods you use with 
mother about Mike. 

311 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


‘ But to get to the question again. We have a 
chance to secure rooms at Gloucester that friends 
of the Pages have to give up. I don’t know when 
we can get anything else desirable, it is so late. 
The rooms are engaged for a month beginning next 
Saturday and of course if we take them we pay for 
the whole time whether we are late or not. Now, 
can you come Thursday ? It’s very soon, I know, 
but if you can we will have one day all together, 
and then mother and I will leave Saturday for 
Gloucester. The sooner the better, doctor says. 
He expects mother to gain fast by the sea. 

“ ‘ Find out as quick as you can, please, what 
Cousin Anne is willing to let you do. I’m sure 
she will understand this emergency. But go 
gently, Helen. Try not to take her head off if 
she doesn’t tell you to catch the next train. Tele- 
graph me when you will come. You see we must 
know whether we can depend on you and for how 
soon. And ’ 

Oh, dear ! ” Helen pulled herself up short. 
'' I ought not to have read you that last paragraph. 
Phillis wouldn’t have. But I never think in 
time.” 

My head is still safe on my own shoulders,” said 
Cousin Anne. Certainly you must go Thurs- 
day. Day after to-morrow. That is rather soon. 
I am perfectly well, child, a trifle lazy after my 
312 


WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 

siege with the ogre, but it will pass. I had thought 
of trying to give you a good time for a bit now. 
You will have to come again for that.’' 

“ Why, Cousin Anne, I’ve had a good time I 
I’ve had the bestest time that ever was. Don’t I 
look it?” 

Cousin Anne patted the warm brown cheek. 

You look like a dear,” she said, “ which is what 
you are, and ‘ Red Top ’ will miss you.” 

“ Not more than I shall miss * Red Top.’ ” 

But all the while inside her a little voice was 
singing jubilantly. She was going home, home to 
mother and Floyd and Phil and the twins, only 
mother and Phil wouldn’t be there long after she 
arrived home ! Her throat pricked the way it 
pricked sometimes when she looked at Molly. 

Red Top ” was lovely, “ Red Top ” was en- 
chanted, but — home ! Was there any place in the 
whole big world like the dear familiar shabby 
house under the elms? And she. Crosspatch 
Thayer, was going to run it all herself I With 
Bridget to help, but help only. Her chest swelled 
with responsibility. 

Not until, standing before her dressing table that 
night thrusting handkerchiefs into a crumpled silk 
case, a corner of yellow paper met her eyes did she* 
remember the fairy godmother. This fact, when 
you think it through thoroughly, is proof of the 

313 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


full glory of Phillis’s proposal. But now, teasing 
and sharp and totally unlooked for, appeared 
thorns under the rose. How was she to find out 
the meaning of “ III — Frederick and Emilie Par- 
sons,” when she went home? Would the fairy 
godmother write to her anywhere but at Red 
Top ” ? That Cousin Anne must write was plain ; 
wasn’t she her confidential adviser? But there 
again was the tangle in Billy’s affairs. And of 
that Cousin Anne could not tell her. Never to 
know whether or not he settled with Ted Babbitt ! 
It was maddening. Did people always have to go 
away and leave loose ends behind them, threads 
that they wanted to see tied themselves ? It was 
as though you shut a book at the most exciting 
place and never saw it again, but had to guess at 
the end or have somebody tell it to you, a woefully 
disappointing makeshift. 

Helen was almost asleep when suddenly she sat 
bolt upright in the dark and addressed the morn- 
ing-glories. “ The door in the wall ! ” she gasped. 

And the tree with the box in it ! I can’t go 
away without knowing about them ! ” 


314 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE GODMOTHER UNMASKED 

All the windows of Red Top stood open to 
the freshness of sun and breeze. These two were 
having a game of tag with each other, skipping 
through fluttering curtains, dodging in and out 
among twinkling leaves, chasing around tree trunks 
and across the grass. The lawn was littered with 
cobwebs, looking, Helen thought, as though fairies 
had forgotten their handkerchiefs after a revel. 

The morning seemed to think it had plenty of 
time to play, but she was very busy. It was her 
last day at Red Top and there were buttons to 
be sewed on and stockings to be darned and small 
breaks to be mended here and there, in order to 
prove to Phillis that she could take a stitch in 
time when she tried. Margaret had the night be- 
fore carried off an armful of soiled skirts and 
dresses, for Cousin Anne insisted on sending her 
home as clean as she came. Being methodical in 
theory, however helter-skelter in practice, she had 
to look over her new possessions and make a be- 
ginning at least of stowing in boxes all the pudgy, 
angular, awkward squad of things that never fit in 

315 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


be much better for you not to see me, you know. 
Then you can always wonder and dream and dress 
me in the gayest tissues of your fancy — paint me 
little or big, with green hair or gold, blue eyes or 
beryl. Unseen, I am a dream, a rainbow, laughter 
on the mind, forget-me-nots by the brook, bird 
notes from the wood. Seen, I shrivel to the com- 
pass of a head, two hands, two feet. Who would 
exchange the unknown for the known, the infinite 
for the definite, fancy for fact? Be careful how 
you shatter a bubble ; its iridescent sphere mimics 
a world. 

Truly I am earnest in my warning. Besides, 
didn’t I tell you that already you know me better 
than the folk who only see me ? You want to do 
both? Well, there is reason in that, I confess — 
reason, but not as surely sense. Sense, little girl, 
is careful of its mysteries. And you may not like 
secrets unveiled. If you don’t, blame yourself — 
not me. Fairy godmothers are not made to be 
gazed at. You can have only one me after that — 
my own me — in place of a dozen guesses of your 
imagination. So choose carefully. This airy 
thistledown of ours will fioat beyond reach on a 
breath too sharply breathed. 

But if you wish to run the risks and insist — 
meet me in the lily garden when the clock strikes 
five. 

Your Fairy Godmother.” 


“ Let her alone,” advised Cousin Anne. Prob- 
ably she is some little monkey of a creature.” 

318 


THE GODMOTHER UNMASKED 


Oh, no ! cried Helen, she couldn’t be. But 
— but ” 

The words died against her teeth. The explana- 
tion she had tried so hard to pretend she hadn’t 
thought of, began to jump dizzily up and down in 
her brain as though it were only the wildest 
imagining. Who was the fairy godmother ? How 
could she be coming here this afternoon ? Unless 
Cousin Anne expected her on a visit. That would 
explain why she was so ready to let Helen go ; she 
expected company. But it would not explain how 
the fairy godmother had been able to receive her 
goddaughter’s message and answer it in the same 
forenoon. Could she be already in the neighbor- 
hood, stopping at one of those pleasant houses in 
the village or at some farmhouse on a country 
road ? Why then hadn’t Cousin Anne spoken of 
her? 

Leaving all this out of consideration, how could 
Helen tell Cousin Anne that anything might take 
precedence of an appointment with the fairy god- 
mother, whoever she might be ? It seemed to con- 
vict her of disloyalty. Yet Billy would expect her 
and never, never, she felt sure, open his mouth on 
the subject of Ted Babbitt were she not in place 
promptly. A glimmering notion that Billy had 
chosen to-day to go to Fairfield only because of the 
journey to-morrow forbade her to fail him. Could 
319 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


she manage both engagements ? Ten minutes was 

a fairly long time, and by being a little late 

But how impolite I Helen’s spirit cringed at the 
notion of arriving late at such a meeting. 

I ought to wait for her, not let her wait even a 
second for me. She might think I didn’t care to 
see her, and go away. But what can I do ? I 
can’t write and say, ^ Please, Fairy Godmother, 
make it half-past five.’ How that would sound I 
No, I’ll just have to trust to luck to keep both.” 

There was nobody, large or small, in the lily 
garden when at a quarter before five Helen sub- 
jected it to careful inspection. Several long green 
worms discovered themselves to her, and one of 
these she carried on a leaf held at arm’s length as 
far as the locked gate, intending him as a gift to 
Molly. There the worm dropped into a clump of 
blue larkspurs, so that Molly never made his ac- 
quaintance. With careful reference to a spider 
busily netting at a corner of the mysterious door, 
the girl mounted the step-ladder and dipped into 
the cool green cubby-hole. 

Feet pounded up the road, and Billy brushed 
through the bushes and threw himself down on the 
grass, tossing his white cap on a bough. Thought 
I’d be late,” he said. '' The train was. I say. 
Seesaw, punch me for a know-it-all, if you 
like.” 


320 


THE GODMOTHER UNMASKED 

You found Ted Babbitt, and it’s all right 
now ? ” she breathed. 

Billy rolled over and chose a grass blade dis- 
criminately. I don’t like the fellow, under- 
stand that. He’s not my sort. But I must say I 
came nearer liking him than I ever thought I 
would.” 

Oh, Billy, I’m so glad.” 

The boy cocked a mocking brown eye at her. 

Ho ! so that’s what you think, is it? ^ Oh, Billy, 
I’m so glad.’ Got a picture of two fellows holding 
a love feast, I suppose, powwowing at a great rate 
about We, Us and Company, the firm that’ll never 
bust partnership. Now you just listen to me and 
I’ll retail as nearly as I can that little conversation. 
No partnership about it. 

I got over there pretty near noon and Gee- 

wollikins ! If there wasn’t the high and mighty 
Babs in the hay-field. What work he did wouldn’t 
hurt him much, I guess, but never mind that. 
Hit number one. Says I, ^ Babbitt, you know I 
don’t take back a word I said some weeks ago, but 
I’ll acknowledge now that I didn’t choose a good 
place to air my sentiments. I’ll even go so far as 
to say it wasn’t exactly my business to knock you 
down.’ 

‘ What you said was right enough, Holbrook,’ 
Babs comes back at me. ' So was the knock-down. 

321 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


I subscribe to both of ’em.’ Hit number two, a 
facer. Maybe he couldn’t have bowled me over 
with a head o’ timothy grass. 

<< < Wrote Foley yesterday,’ he goes on. Number 
three. I lost count after that. ‘ Couldn’t say it. 
Tried before school closed, you know. Did, ’pon 
honor. Words wouldn’t come.’ — Babs talks that 
way, in jerks. — ‘ Didn’t know when I landed on 
Foley that he hadn’t any chink. Found out after- 
ward. Blamed sorry. Wanted to kick myself. 
No good. Couldn't talk. Mule, all right.’ ” 

The clock struck five. 

^ Here’s another,’ says I. ^ Hot day.’ 

“ ‘ Beastly,’ says he. 

^ Heard from any of the fellows ? ’ 

He runs me over a list of ’em. ^ You’ll stop to 
dinner ? ’ 

I stopped, saw little sister, uncle, aunt, cous- 
ins, and the rest of the push, including Mr. 
Dooley. Good looking cat. Little sister’s all 
right, too.” 

“ Her brother is mighty nice to her,” Helen re- 
marked. 

Glad to hear it. Hope he keeps it up. After 
dinner Babs says, ‘ I’d drive you home, Holbrook, 
but my car’s in the shop for repairs. Side roads 
play the dickens with it.’ 

^ Stick to the main highways,’ I advise him. 

322 


THE GODMOTHER UNMASKED 


^ Polly lives somewhere round here, doesn^t he ? I 
must look in on Polly/ ” 

Who’s Polly ? ” interposed Helen. 

“ William Hackett Pollard, best hockey player 
and debater in school. So Polly and I kill time 
without half trying. Sprint for train, whistle 

toots Exit Billy.” 

He folded his arms, cocked his head on one side 
and looked up at her like a naughty brown cherub. 

Good boy I Nice little Bill I ” she sparred 
gayly, but with an undercurrent of honest glad- 
ness in her voice, as she rose to her knees. 

What’s your rush ? Come on and play ten- 
nis.” 

I’ve an engagement, Billy,” she pleaded. I’m 

late now, but ” 

What about our last game? ” 

I’ll play to-night after supper.” 

No go. Promised to beau Moll to a show in 
town. You’re a nice pal, you are ! ” 

I’ll get up early and play before breakfast, but 
I can’t stop now. She’ll be waiting, at least I hope 
she will.” 

The F. G. ? Oh, that’s the game, is it? Run 
along. Seesaw. Hustle, or you’ll lose her I ” 

Helen was tremendously afraid she had already 
lost her. The second best organdie quaked as it 
sped toward the lily garden. If the fairy god- 

323 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


mother should If she shouldn’t Now 

that she stood on the threshold of the encounter 
the girl hardly knew whether she were more eager 
for it than afraid. Pit-pat, pit-pat, pit-pat, pounded 
a hammer in her chest all the while her feet hur- 
ried her toward the gate. Then she was in among 
the lilies, the hammer in her throat now — and 
there was only Cousin Anne, reading by the low 
stone table, with shining ranks of lilies tall and 
proud behind her. That was queer, when Cousin 
Anne knew The thought skipped the sur- 

face of Helen’s mind and bounded olf into space. 

Did you see her ? ” she cried. Has she 
come ? ” 

Cousin Anne looked up, a little smile ruffling 
the firm line of her lips. “ I have seen no one, 
my dear, and I have been here since five o’clock.’^ 
But she promised ! ” 

'‘Then perhaps she is here.” Cousin Anne 
continued to smile. 

“ She’s not in sight anywhere. You don’t sup- 
pose I’ve lost the fairy spectacles? Oh, if I 
have Why — why ” 

For a full minute Helen stared speechless at the 
face above the flowing white gown, at the keen 
twinkling eyes, at the quizzical curving lips. 

“ You ! you ! ” she stammered. “ Did you write 
me those letters ? ” 


324 



‘‘it was you all along” 







THE GODMOTHER UNMASKED 


‘ I don^t want any explanation/ ” quoted 
Cousin Anne, “ ‘ I just want the fairy godmother/ 
Do you remember saying that ? 

But Helen had both arms around Cousin Anne^s 
neck now and was almost choking the breath out 
of her. It was you all along — and I thought — I 

thought Never mind what I said. IVe got 

the fairy godmother 1 And I like the explana- 
tion ! ’’ More hugs. “ Oh, you darling ! What 
ever, ever put it into your head? 

“ I'm a scheming old woman, Nell. When I 
first saw you I knew you expected a ‘ horrid time ' 
and I wished you to be disappointed. Besides, my 
dear, I loved you when I saw how you swallowed 
your blues that night to amuse my bedridden 

kf." 

What a dunce I've been ! " said Helen, blush- 
ing happily at Cousin Anne's praise. “Any girl 
but me would have known long ago. But I was 
so sure, so sure it was somebody it wasn't." 

“ So I saw." 

“ And the locked gate ? " 

“ When your mother and Mrs. James " 

“ She was the one I thought," Helen breathed. 

“ When they and I were girls," said Cousin 
Anne, “ there was no door in the wall. It ran un- 
broken at the back of the flower gardens. We 
used to let ourselves out through the gate in the 

325 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


vegetable patch and walk down the road to the oak 
where you mailed your letters/’ 

To the hiding-hole ? ” 

To the hiding-hole. I thought you could 
make use of it. It is the pleasantest little green 
spot where a girl ever lay and dreamed, or three 
girls ever sat and told secrets. The bushes even 
when we were young grew tall enough to screen 
us from the road. We had a post-office in the oak 
and mail circulated briskly.” 

I found that, too,” said Helen. I mean I 
found the hollow and the box in it. Cousin Anne, 
why does the outside of the letter say to wait till 
nineteen-thirty ? ” 

It was an idea of your mother’s our last sum- 
mer together. We were fifteen. ‘ Let’s seal up in 
a metal box the things we like best,’ she said, ‘ and 
write an account of all the good times we have had 
here and the things we have done, and leave them 
in the tree for some other girls to find fifty years 
from now.’ ” 

Fifty years ! ” cried Helen. Then they’ve 
been there more than thirty ? ” 

Cousin Anne nodded. The scheme took our 
breath away at first as it does yours. It was daz- 
zling. Your mother had big ideas, Nell. ‘ Just 
think how we would feel,’ she said, ‘ if half a cen- 
tury ago some girls had left a record of their doings 
326 


THE GODMOTHER UNMASKED 


for us to find/ But we didn’t need urging. We 
never did. We explained our scheme in a letter, 
signed it with our three names, and marked it not 
to be opened till nineteen-thirty. The box con- 
tains a kind of composite picture of our likes and 
our larks. I think your mother put in the doll 
two inches high that she dressed so elaborately the 
summer she was twelve. It had real hair and its 
eyes opened and shut. Tillie James was never seen 
to wear her coral beads after the box was closed. 
I know I contributed a wonderful Nuremberg top. 
I often wish I had it now to amuse children with, 
though I don’t begrudge it to the child who shal] 
find it. Who will she be, I wonder ? ” 

“ Oh, I wonder ! ” Helen’s eyes were dreamy. 
The story of the three girls who had so dramatic- 
ally put away their childhood had taken fast hold 
of her fancy. 

“ When nineteen-thirty comes,” said Cousin 
Anne, send me the names of the three nicest 
girls you know and I will ask them to ‘ Red Top ’ 
for a month. We will lock the door and make 
the green hiding-hole as secret as ever it used to 
be, as secret as you have found it this summer, 
and give them the chance to find the hidden treas- 
ures.” 

“ Lucky girls ! ” Helen’s voice was a trifle wist- 
ful. I’d like to be one of them.” Then her 
327 


HELEN OVER-THE-JVALL 


faced cleared. Though it’s nearly as nice to 
know a thing like that about the tree as it would 
be to find the things yourself in nineteen-thirty. 
Nineteen-thirty,” she repeated softly. It’s almost 
as though I’d helped put them there myself.” 

“ Are the letter and the box all right? ” asked 
Cousin Anne. “ I have never looked to see.” 

Helen shut her lips on Billy’s perfidy. 

They’re rather rusty and mouldy.” 

That is natural.” Cousin Anne sat silent, her 
thoughts bridging the years. 

And the mark on the trunk ? ” queried Helen 
at last. “ The circle with the triangle inside? ” 

That was our symbol, and we cut it in the bark 
to be a sign as long as the tree should stand. A 
three-cornered friendship within the circle of eter- 
nity. We were very proud of that symbol.” 

It was Helen’s turn to sit silent, twisting her 
fingers in Cousin Anne’s. It’s lovely,” she pro- 
nounced. And it makes your throat sort of 
lumpy. I guess that’s part of the loveliness. 
Then the door was locked just for me ? ” 

There was little enough I could do to amuse 
you,” said Cousin Anne. I couldn’t have you 
eating your heart out with homesickness. Don’t 
I know what it is like? Imagination is the best 
antidote to the dumps I have ever found. When 
I saw what fun you were getting out of the door — 
328 


THE GODMOTHER UNMASKED 


I could read your eyes, my dear — I knew I might 
venture the first of the godmother letters/’ 

Those darling letters I ” 

It was a game in which your imagination was 
chief player, and it helped give me, too, a divert- 
ing summer. Don’t you suppose I liked playing 
the part of fairy godmother? ” 

“ I don’t see how you did it,” Helen declared. 

Everything came so pat 1 Take that lovely dress 
and the letter about my inside face. I — I was 
getting fearfully cross and they smoothed out all 
my knots.” 

Cousin Anne chuckled. “ Part of it we will 
call happenstance. Part was foresight — and in- 
sight, if you like. I shall not tell you how I had 
the letters copied. Jo mailed them for me on the 
trains. Have you never noticed the letter slit in 
the side of a mail car ? They traveled to the Junc- 
tion and came back. This morning I had to use 
the post-office in the village. Are you sure these 
revelations do not rub the bloom off the fairy god- 
mother’s wings ? ” 

I don’t know,” said Helen honestly. ‘‘ So far 
I can’t think of anything but the magic, for it 
was magic even if you were it. I surely had fun 
with that locked gate. And I love, I perfectly 
love to think about the things waiting in the tree. 
But I think I won’t tell Phillis. Only,” she 
329 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


hesitated, “ how did you find out I hated the way 
I looked ? 

The girl I used to be did it. Do you hate it 
as much now ? ” 

“ Oh, dear, no I I canT bother. You see I’ve 
had such a perfectly gorgeous time when I forgot 
all about it. Cousin Anne, you are wonderfuller 
even than I thought you were. Those rules for 

the wishing game — how did you ever ” She 

jumped to her feet. Horror choked speech into 
broken sentences. “ You — you were the fairy god- 
mother and I Oh ! Oh ! I asked — actually 

asked for — for Floyd and Phil What shall I 

do? What shall I do?” 

You will sit down,” said the deep clear voice, 
“ and listen to me. Don’t you suppose I have 
always intended to do those two things you refer 
to ? It seemed to me rather a good scheme when 
the chance offered to put them in the game. I 
have not been quite awake to the rapidity with 
which Floyd is growing up. I needed your visit, 
my dear. You tell me more in a day than Phillis 
does in a month, and I am sincerely grateful.” 

“ I know I talk too much — Phil says so. But 
you’re a dear to put the rest in.” 

Then as your confidential adviser and not as a 
dear this time, I will give you a bit of informa- 
tion. A woman I know who is very fond of Fred 
330 


THE GODMOTHER UNMASKED 

and Emilie Parsons has authorized me to make 
you a proposition. She wants somebody to play 
with them the fairy godmother game, and I have 
recommended you. Her idea is to have the chil- 
dren hear from their godmother on an average of 
once a week. They have everything that money 
can buy, so they do not need gifts of any cash 
value. What they do need is some one to love 
them, laugh and play with them, pretend with 
them, understand them. I should not wonder if 
four or five years from now Emilie might need to 
hear about her inside face. Most people do, pretty 
or plain, some time or other. The plan is to have 
the letters continue, to Emilie at least, until she is 
fourteen — six years, you see.’’ 

Six years I ” cried Helen. 

“ It will be a difficult task, I realize fully, to 
write weekly letters for six years to two children 
whom you have never seen. A year or two — but 
six ! Harder work than raising mushrooms. You 
can do it, I think, for the twins will keep you in 
training at home and your mother is a mine of ad- 
vice in tight places. There is a bird house in the 
garden where the Parsons children might mail let- 
ters to you. The gardener could forward them to 
your address. They must have a chance to write 
their godmother. Such questions as I foresee you 
will have to face ! The point is,” smiling, “ how 

331 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


deep a well is your fancy, child ? A few feet, or 
five fathoms, or does the bottom lie beyond sound- 
ing? You need not try to solve the problem be- 
fore deciding, onl}^ time can do that, but I do want 
you to think it over carefully. It is a chance to 
pass on the game, you see, but it means, as I say, 
hard work. 

“ The terms I am authorized to offer are fifty 
dollars the first year, plus your expenses in stamps, 
paper, and the like, seventy-five the second, and 
after that an increase of fifty dollars each year for 
as many years of the six as you can keep it up — 
always providing the letters prove satisfactory. 
You will have a month's vacation." 

Helen calculated rapidly. “ Surely, Cousin 
Anne, it's too much to pay for — for fun, like those 
letters I " 

“ The more fun the better," said Cousin Anne. 

But forty-eight letters a year for six years — letters 
with the care and thought and imagination you will 
put into these, cost more than you think. Some 
of the six times forty-eight may not be easy to 
write. What of weeks when you are absorbed in 
other things, weeks when you scratch your fancy 
in vain for a new idea, weeks when you would 
give anything to be free of your bargain ? " 

“ I wouldn't grudge the twins a letter a week no 
matter how busy I was." 

332 


THE GODMOTHER UNMASKED 


Could you play the same game with the twins 
for six years and keep them from tiring of it? 

“ I don’t know — perhaps not. But there are so 
many chances in this game. And when you fig- 
ure it out, that money will keep on right through 
my college course, getting bigger and bigger. Of 
course it won’t pay for everything, but with a 

scholarship Oh, I feel all fizzy inside like a 

bottle of soda water. Why should you be paid for 
doing something that you want to do ? I am so 
crazy to write those letters I ha^ e to bite my 
tongue to keep from saying yes, now. When may 
I say yes. Cousin Anne ? ” 

Some day after the middle of next week — not 
before. Then you may say yes or no, and as your 
representative I will close or cancel the contract.” 

She may not grow up an angel,” thought Cousin 
Anne, watching the eager absorbed face, “ but she 
will learn to be what is better, a patient, resource- 
ful woman, godmothering Freddy and little Em.” 

Do you truly think I can make my letters 
good enough ? ” the girl was asking. 

I truly do.” 

'' It isn’t as if I hadn’t the best models in the 
world. It was lovely having a fairy godmother, 
but I do believe it’s going to be lovelier being one. 
I can feel ideas sprouting in my head already.” 

That night after tea, armed with a ball of twine, 
333 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


Helen climbed again into the oak over the wall 
and set to rummaging in the hollow. Her letters 
to the fairy godmother had been laid lightly just 
behind the green leaf-curtain ; the wonderful box 
lay much deeper. A little sigh escaped the girl’s 
lips. If only you could manage somehow to get 
back of a thing that was done and undo it ! How 
could Billy — oh, how could he have ravaged the 
secret? How could he have stolen a march on 
the rightful finder? Her fingers closed on the 
box that her mother’s girl fingers had shut and 
fastened. She must make certain that all was se- 
cure against the long, long years ahead. To make 
more sure, she must tie the box stoutly up with 
twine. 

It was not as she had last seen it. The day after 
Billy had it open on his knee she had gone again 
to the tree to assure herself that he had put the 
box back, had even shaken it a little for the com- 
fort of hearing the queer rattles. At that time a 
hinge had been loose and at one corner the cover 
bulged where Billy must have used his knife to 
pry with. Now on the four sides where cover and 
body met, ran a gleaming strip of solder put on in 
thick uneven blotches by unskilled fingers. 
Billy ! thought Helen. This was Billy’s work. 
As she looked an inspiration struck her. I don’t 
believe he peeked very much after all,” she said. 

334 


THE GODMOTHER UNMASKED 


More than once in the next twenty hours it 
l^eemed to Helen as though she were walking in 
some other girl’s shoes. Could Crosspatch Thayer 
be this dazzlingly happy person whom the Hol- 
brooks were saying with hearty conviction in their 
voices they wished were to stay all summer at “ Red 
Top,” who hugged Cousin Anne as she had never 
hugged anybody outside her very own family and 
then ran back from Jo’s buggy for another kiss ? 
Belle Frink skipped down to the road for a pass- 
ing word as they drove through the village and 
May herself waved graciously from the porch. 

“ ’Mind me to that sister o’ yours,” said Jo as he 
handed her the trunk check. Now you’ve 
found the road you’ll be cornin’ oftener, won’t 
ye?” 

And then Billy pranced out of the dust with a 
bag of lollipops “ for the twins,” looking as non- 
chalant as though he had not sprinted half the 
way to the village. The last Helen saw of Red 
Top ” was Jo’s rusty straw waving from the station 
platform and Billy’s impish brown eyes illustrat- 
ing a final gibe as he jumped from the train. 
Good-bye, Miss Over-the-Wall ! ” 

Oh, dear ! I thought he’d never get off. He 
stuck on just to tease me.” Dropping her hand- 
kerchief, she settled back in the seat. If I weren’t 
going home I should cry, I know I should. How 
335 


HELEN OVER-THE-WALL 


queer to be in layers like a cake, half of you sorry, 
half of you glad. But the glad part is going to be 
all of me pretty soon, though I shall miss ‘ Red 
Top ’ and ^ Gray Shingles ^ like everything.^’ 

After the change at the Junction, she opened her 
suit-case and took out the book Cousin Anne had 
handed her shortly before Jo reined in at the 
porch. It is a book I have had for some time 
and it will repay reading,” Cousin Anne had said. 
Why the emphasis, Helen wondered. The facts 
were undeniable and obvious, but Cousin Anne 
had not sounded as though she meant anything 
obvious. The loosened cover bagged a little at the 
back. A dose of library paste was needed, pro- 
nounced the girl, with the critical air of one ac- 
customed to doctor books. 

This was a volume of very old fairy tales. The 
first looked interesting ; she began to read. Page 
after page turned under her fingers. The second 
story lured her on. Here some one had left an 
old letter. No, the envelope was fresh and un- 
stamped. The hold of the story wavered — snapped. 
The letter was addressed to her ! 

Dear Nell,” said the note inside. I omitted 
to tell you that when Floyd and Phillis are ready 
to cash the wishing checks all they need do is to 
send them to me.” 

Was anybody ever such a darling ? Now 
336 


THE GODMOTHER UNMASKED 


Floyd can^t call it nonsense I ” exulted his sister. 
“ He will have to believe when he sees it written in 
black and white over Cousin Anne’s signature.” 

Your mother,” the letter proceeded, will 
know that a garden which is not very young in- 
deed overflows every few years. This fall I shall 
send her part of the overflow. If there is any- 
thing she particularly desires, write me of it. Jo 
and I have stocked gardens for miles around * Red 
Top.’ Why not one in Massachusetts ? ” 

Stealthily Helen glanced about to see if people 
were looking at her. All was peaceful, the old 
gentleman across the aisle polishing his glasses, the 
woman in front clucking to her baby, the young 
ladies behind the old gentleman talking together 
busily. Evidently she had not squealed aloud. 
Perhaps Phil was right about squealing. It might 
be a dangerous habit. But she wished she had 
hugged Cousin Anne again. 

A hunt for more secrets followed. When you 
had found one you might find another. It did no 
harm to make sure. She had chased them through 
the book and back again before, hidden cunningly 
away in the heart of the fairy tales, her fingers 
touched the thinnest of thin envelopes bearing — 
oh, bliss and rapture !— the fairy godmother’s de- 
lightful lettering. But it would not come out I 
Pulling and picking, she peered closer, discovering 
337 


HELEN OVER-THE-JVALL 


a silk thread running through the envelope and 
around inside the back cover. Manicure scissors 
cut the silk. The letter fell away in her hand ; the 
thread stuck. Helen tugged. Out from conceal- 
ment in the loose back dropped a small, thin, yet 
daintily knobby package. 

Will you have them of gold or of gossamer,^’ 
chanted the fascinating script in her ear, built 
strong for soaring or spun fine for flitting, a 
dragon-fly’s or an eagle’s ? Let them dazzle in the 
sun if you choose, or shoot like silver arrows 
under the moon, but be sure they are storm proof. 
All fairy godmothers, worth the name, use that 
kind.” 

A tiny pair of jeweled wings slipped from the 
tissue folds and lay in Helen’s palm. 


Another Story in this Series is : 
HELEN AND THE UNINVITED GUEST 


338 


I 


' «i 




' ' .' >, 


V '* • ' \ ^ V'.. 

‘ r ■ ‘ 

•// 1 ' , . ' 


-f , . 


V’: 

i 



O' 


j ', ' /. 





» 


/'■ ; 


M ' '*W '■. 

'V ■ If'i"" ' !• '4/,'j '. . ■ ^ ' ' . M-i 'W-'fi 

. r ^/rV' ' f;' *’■,/. ' • ^ ’’^3 

^ M .A * 




* L* 




T r \- 




IJI W v , 

yjUfi » • * 


.S 


Kf 

r, ;,'f'"S,; 


» A 




'*’ Wk. 







I I 


)' 




'S 



J' * ' .• * 

- ^>^4 


<\ 







■i ! 


'I' 


1^ 


I ' 


■ ^ 


• '■ ■ i*f ' 

^ . ■ .«v ‘ ‘ . . W; 





t ^■l7 "'• 

4 



■ ,. ■>'„> 

' <..';.C'':'.|ta 


i 'i •> / s ' 'v -L 


'C. ' 






■ '♦ 


■; ,y®U,V 




* 


* , ;.X* 

^v; 




V ■ •■ V 


a 




4 ( 


I I 


✓ •' 


'/V'v'.. 



1,4 , 


V-‘‘ 


li 


.• 1 


. \ ». 


./ 




* ss 




-I' . )’, 




/• 



f 


.* 




Ar> " ' :,.' 

k ' ' f * '4 , 





•yw 


■slM 


4 / . r r.f. 


^ V' ' • 

■ 'Jl'Tl' '.V 


I 1 




• V'-'v 


1 1 


fc * 



■ ^ V '■'fXllvV' ' ■ 

’ 'A:",:;^';pA^i,. • ^^ ■'; 


4 1 


\ « 


«i 






l"r‘ ‘ 








• \ 


■ 


" ■'<vvs^a,«r ■' ’■'•"Jffl 

^Yv' 





f.' 


JlI r 


\v A . 

, ^ ^ ' ,>r ■:..■■,■ .- 






r 


I 






t • 

r 


r 

I 

^ . 

1 

1 


i 

« 

r 



< 




4. . 

« 


* I'! 


\ 


■ » 

• « 


« 


• • 


. I ^ 


/ 




I 


i 


•/ 


< 


* 



I 


i . 







» . 


♦ 


I 



« 



\ 



I 


i 


. » 


I ■ 






»■ •» 


7 ' 
. # 


I 




I 


« 








- « t 



i ■ 

- r - 


•1 / ! ^ • • 

. , ' 'M, / .. .■> 

' \> V * >• 

* V 1 


r. 


! 


4 

-3 


/ ^ 


} 





.A •'■ 


V' 


M »A. * . 



1 . . 







